Sea of No Cares
by ElGato44
Summary: In a world of perfection, Lumiale finds himself connected to the least likely of people. This stranger may impact more than anyone could realize.
1. Part 1: Merchant of the Seas

Disclaimer: Angelique is owned by Ruby Party and Koei. Miguel is mine. I realize that some of these situations are unlikely but go with the flow.

Part 1: Merchant of the Seas

As odd as it was, the Flying City was hot. Ungodly hot. The Flying City usually had perfect weather to treat their perfect inhabitants. Many of the Guardians of the cosmos knew that when it got too hot, so did tempers, especially the ones more volatile. The only thing that made this day better, was the delivery of goods and supplies from merchants on the local continent. Bright and early was when they made their rounds. The Guardians usually got their goods from a group of merchant sailors that traveled from continent to continent, selling and trading goods, but were also gracious enough to travel to the Flying City and give these Guardians the goods to fulfill their hobbies and needs.

"Hey, Miguel," one of the sailors greeted. They looked at the ruins of their ship. Their beloved ship. Damn the storms. When they had docked they stayed at a local inn, only to find that the night's storms had destroyed their ship along with several other ships. Luckily for them, they took all their cargo off before the storm.

"Miguel?" the sailor asked, "what are we going to do now?"

"I have no idea," Miguel answered, as he scratched his head, "Carlos, are we still go to deliver the cargo to those Guardians."

"Sure, how the hell are we going to tell them we won't be their errand boys any longer?"

"You'll have to tell them one way," their captain, a tall man with a black curly beard, approached his first mate and helmsman. "And some way we will have to find jobs."

"Is this the end?" Miguel asked the captain.

"If you make it the end," the captain ran a hand through his thick beard. "Due to this…disaster. We'll probably have one guy deliver the goods to the Guardians. Miguel?"

"What? Me?"

Carlos and the captain nodded.

"With the rest us trying to arrange housing for us until we find jobs, we can only afford to send one man to deliver the goods," the grizzly captain smiled and placed a hand on his first mate's shoulder. "You already know the Queen's Aide, you just have to get to know the others. We only have shipments for a few of the Guardians, so it shouldn't take long."

Miguel grinned and nodded rubbing his hands together, "Alright, where are these son of a bitches?"

The captain barked in laughter as Carlos jumped a little, expressing his concerns, "You have met some of the Guardians, haven't you? You should know not to make too much of a scene."

"We've just lost our ship and have no jobs. They will have to deal with my lip."

***

Within the Sanctuary, the early morning sun was usually welcomed if not for the fact that it brought much of the heat. Even young Marcel who loved being out in the sun, could only stand it for so long and sat under the shade of the tree with his beloved Chupi.

"Aahh! So hot, isn't it Chupi?" he breathed wiping the sweat from his brow. His bird chirped happily, but then turned its head in the direction of the paved road. A cart pulled by a mule rolled down. For any Guardian it was an odd sight, to see such a run down and ordinary looking thing steered by a comparatively average looking man.

The young man was large with broad shoulders and chest with tan skin and thick messy brown hair that nearly covered his eyes to the bottom of the back of his neck. He had a rugged look with dark scruffy stubble. He wore a loose plain wool shirt and pants the reached to his calves and on his feet were worn leather sandals. The only thing valuable looking on his person was large gold hooped earrings hanging from his lobes.

Such a coarse looking man was an odd sight to the young Guardian of Greenery but he knew what his arrival meant.

"Ah, the supplies are here," the young blonde boy smiled knowing that the arrival would certainly cheer the Guardians up.

Miguel wiped the sweat off his brow. Damn it was hot! He much rather feel the ocean breeze. A pang of pain struck him as he realized that it was very likely that he may never see the blue waters or taste the ocean spray again. He pushed that thought to the back of his head as he rolled down the road to the first mansion of his route.

***

A knock came at Rosalia's door.

"Madam, a young man wishes audience with you," one of her servants called. The Queen's Aide quickly finished putting on her clothing specially made for these hot days. But even that did nothing to quell the heat.

"All right. I'll go see what he wants."

When Rosalia reached the front door, she opened it and mixed feelings crossed her mind when she saw the man. Although the man rough looking and she knew his personality, she was happy that he was here to deliver something that would take her mind off the heat.

"Hey, nice rack," Miguel grinned and said in a joking manner, eyes floating down to her chest

Rosalia rolled her eyes, "Miguel, it is too early in the morning and too hot to deal with this."

"I hear you," he said with a smile as he reached down and picked up a box full of garments, "Here you are."

"Thank you very much," Rosalia said shortly, taking a hold of the package. It was then she noticed something odd about the young man in front of her. She didn't know what it was, but Miguel seemed less cheerful than she was used to.

"Is everything alright?"

Miguel blinked. How the hell should he bring this up to the second most important woman in the cosmos? "Er…well. I have some bad news. Our ship was destroyed in a storm, so we may not be able to bring more items to you guys. And I'm out of a job."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That's just terrible," Rosalia sounded sincere. Being a sailor and a merchant was what kept Miguel's kind going. She couldn't imagine him doing anything else.

"Yeah, well, hopefully something will work out," Miguel managed a smile, which was just as bright as any of the Guardians', something that many women on the continents took notice of. "The Queen isn't available by any chance, because if there was ever a time for a miracle…"

Rosalia laughed a little, "No, now don't be late for your rounds. And stop flirting with Oscar's maids, they get enough sexual harassment."

"Got it," the man gave her a thumbs up. "Oh, before I go, I was sent to notify the Guardian of Darkness that his incense didn't come in, because…well," Miguel swallowed, "the stuff he asked for is illegal in pretty much every continent we stopped by. Yeah, it was not fun sitting in jail for that. And I would tell him, but he wasn't a part of my usual rounds, and…I…I'm afraid of him."

He was waiting for laughter. He never met the Guardian of Darkness, be he's heard tales from another sailor that the man liked the dark and Miguel wasn't so sure of someone who liked the dark.

Rosalia smirked, "I'll tell him that. I'm sure Clavis can go without that incense until we find another merchant to deal with. I hope every thing will work out."

"Thanks, take care," he waved and flashed his smile.

***

The Guardian of Light, Julious, always had a proverbial stick up his ass. Only it was shoved up even higher with this heatwave. He was reading the reports on the continents while fanning himself with the papers. He was still in his sleeping robes, which were thinner and looser than his usual god-like robes, but did little against the heat wave.

A knock came at his door.

"Enter," he barked.

"Uh, good morning," a common man entered carrying two large brown sacks. "I got your coffee beans for you, Julious."

Oddly, Julious' eyebrows rose in surprise, and possibly in relief as well. He stood as the man laid the sacks down in the corner of Julious' office.

The man continued to talk, "This is the good stuff for you. Arabian coffee beans. Best of the best."

Julious approached the man as the commoner reached in his back pocket and took out a switch blade, tearing open the sack and dipping his hands in to scoop up the rich coffee beans.

"Here."

Julious bent down to take in the aroma the beans had. He hummed in satisfaction. Miguel dropped the beans back in, "Good huh? Now that's the best part of waking up."

"Agreed, what's the special occasion?"

"Special for you not for me. Our ship's gone and we have no clue what to do. So we thought we'd give away our best stuff."

Julious didn't know how to respond, although this man's business did involve his own, he couldn't console him. Luckily Miguel didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks for this, Miguel."

"No problem, stay cool."

***

The next one on the route was not one of Miguel's usual Guardians that he brought goods to. His route consisted of Julious, Oscar, Olivie, and sometimes he would deliver something from Luva. But now he was entering uncharted territory. The next Guardian on his list was the Guardian of Water and he had no idea where the hell that was.

Randy threw the Frisbee and his dog caught it in the air. A morning exercise always cleared his mind, but the scorching heat made him and his dog a little tired. And as he threw the Frisbee once more the sweat on his hands caused it to slip out and fly off course and it was heading straight towards a man driving a small cart. Luckily the man was alert and caught the Frisbee.

Immediately, Randy sprinted towards the cart, "Sorry for that."

"It's way to hot to be running around, don't you think?" the man said as he reached down and handed the Frisbee to the Guardian of Wind.

"I'll live," Randy shrugged, "are you here to deliver something?"

"Yes…do you know where this…damn I can't read his handwriting…I think it's the Guardian of Water."

"Lumiale?"

"I guess so. The sailor who wrote this has horrid writing," Miguel responded, silently cursing Carlos' penmanship. The only way he could tell it was the Guardian of Water was the teardrop shape Carlos drew on the side of the name.

"Lumiale's mansion is just up the road and past a pond, you can't miss it."

"Ah, thanks, pal," Miguel smiled at the slightly younger man and tugged the reigns.

Randy watched the deliveryman roll down the road before glancing down at the Frisbee in his hand and then at his dog, "We should probably take a rest inside."

***

Miguel hopped off the cart and took the crate full of canvases and paint supplies out. He hauled the crate to the door, noticing how the sweat was causing his grip to slip a little. He placed the box down to knock on the door.

"I'm coming," a voice called.

That voice shocked Miguel. It was so soft and angelic, like music to one's ears. What the hell was this?

Lumiale had heard a knock at his front door and immediately he rose from arranging the bouquet of flowers Marcel had picked for him and opened the front door.

On the other side was a tall, muscular commoner with unkempt hair and short trimmed beard. He would have been considered handsome on the continents, but in the Flying City he seemed out of place, with his coarse, rugged looks.

Miguel blinked several times at the person who answered the door. Was this a woman or a man? Whoever it was, the person was thin, pale and delicate looking with a grace that even the other Guardians didn't possess. The figure certainly matched the voice.

Miguel cleared his throat trying not to show that he was awestruck by the beauty this figure possessed, "Er, yes, sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for a Lumiale…"

The person smiled, "You're looking at him, is there something I can help you with?"

_Jeez, don't screw this up. Just for once don't be an ass_, the voice in his head kept on nagging Miguel. He refused to believe that a man could take his breath away.

"I…I'm here to deliver your art supplies you ordered…sir," Miguel said in an awkward tone.

Lumiale glanced at the box of supplies, "Well thank you very much."

When he made the move to pick up the box, the larger man stopped him, "Oh, no need. I can take them in for you."

"Thank you. You are so kind."

Miguel followed Lumiale into his parlor.

"Where do you want these?"

"Just place them over there," Lumiale pointed a feminine finger at the corner of the parlor. Miguel did as he was directed, and placed the box down noticing a golden harp sitting in the corner, with two strings broken. Aside from the strings, it looked well used.

"You play the harp?"

Lumiale flinched, surprised at the man's inquiry, "Yes, I do. I will have to have the Guardian of Steel to fix those strings for or I will get rusty."

"If you want, I could fix it for you. Right here, right now."

Lumiale could only regard this man, "Sure if you can."

Miguel bent down, inspecting the strings, "I play the guitar. Fixing a few strings is nothing new."

Lumiale left the fixing of his harp to this kind stranger. It was indeed interesting to watch the man's large, powerful hands manipulate, tighten, and tweak the strings. Lumiale had sat down, sipping his tea and watched as the deliveryman lightly pluck the strings and bend his head to hear to see if the strings were properly tuned.

"I apologize for saying this, but Carlos usually delivers my goods. Has something happened?"

The man looked up for a moment, "Carlos is fine. But you probably won't see much of him or me again. Our ship was destroyed by a massive storm that hit port. All that's left is kindling. So while they sort things out, I'm delivering the rest of the cargo."

"So you don't know what you're going to do?"

"Not a clue," Miguel lifted his eyes to stare into Lumiale's blue ones. His jaw tightened and he leaned forward, holding out his hand, "I'm Miguel."

Lumiale smiled took hold of Miguel's much larger hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Once Miguel had Lumiale's harp fixed to satisfaction, he flashed a smile and strummed the strings, "Here. It's fixed."

"Ah, like new. Thank you. Please let me get you some water before you leave. It's blazing hot out there," Lumiale said in a voice that almost felt like water.

"Er, thanks."

When the Guardian of Water left to retrieve some fresh water, Miguel remained standing, looking about the parlor. He spotted a few paintings near the doors to the porch. Curious he walked over to see what they were. There were two unfinished canvases: one was of a tall man with long dark hair reclining under a tree and another was of a young blonde boy lifting his hand so a blue bird can rest upon it.

His eyes traveled to the finished paintings that were framed. They were all landscapes, showing the sea and the dazzling sky, a few ships that were pinpricks in the vast beautiful waters.

Miguel clenched his jaw tightly, realizing that his time on the beautiful waters was over, and all those times he spent on the ship, with the ocean, were now nothing but memories. He would never again experience the freedom of being out amongst the waves, watching the sunrise, the sea seeping into the yellow rays of the sun.

His thoughts were interrupted, when he heard clattering on the coffee table.

"Here's some cool water for you," Lumiale announced softly pouring Miguel some water from a pitcher.

"Did you do these?" the larger man asked still staring at the paintings of the water.

"Yes, I did. Just something to pass the time."

Miguel nodded distantly. "Do you like the water?...jeez!" Miguel shook his head, embarrassed to have asked such a stupid question. Of course the Guardian of Water likes water. What a dumbass!

"Forgive me," Miguel corrected himself congenially, not daring to look the Guardian of Water in the eye. "That was a stupid question."

Lumiale chuckled mildly, "It's not as idiotic as you might think, but I believe you answered your own question."

Miguel sighed and took the glass of water the Guardian of Water offered him. He sat down and drank the water silently.

Lumiale stared at his companion. The way the man drank the water was most intriguing and it revealed that something heavy was on his mind. He took the glass in both hands drank in silent sips, his eyes not meeting Lumiale's. Miguel had played the disaster of his ship off as an inconvenience, but his mannerisms now suggested to Lumiale that it left a deeper wound than what could be seen.

Miguel swallowed, "What does the Guardian of Water…do?"

"My Sacrea governs healing and gentleness."

Miguel inspected his glass, "I'll take no other Sacrea on a hot day like this."

He cursed himself at his lame attempt at humor. Carlos was right, it's best not to be heard in the realm of the Guardians. But this guy liked music, so did he. And he loved the water, so did he. Two things in common, why should they not engage in light conversation?

"Yes, I fear this heat wave has gotten to the best of us. Sometimes I even find myself losing patience."

Miguel laid his glass down on the coffee table and stood, bowing a little, "Thank you for the water, but I'd better be going. I still have one more package to deliver."

"Certainly," Lumiale stepped out of his way and Miguel passed him with hesitance, almost as if he didn't want to go. His aura was still solemn and sad, no matter how hard Miguel tried to play it off.

Lumiale bit his lip and, against all reason, shot his hand out to grab the man's strong arm. Miguel turned, his eyes wide open in surprise.

"Will you be alright?" the Guardian of Water asked, his gaze full of concern.

Miguel swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably. A Guardian was worried about him? Truth be told Miguel didn't know how to answer Lumiale. A part of him wanted to say no, he would be destined to wander the Flying City for eternity, and another part wanted to believe that everything would fall into place.

"I should be fine," Miguel answered, his voice wavering a little, and his heart beating faster.

Lumiale could only nod and let go of the man's arm and watched the man leave into a realm of uncertainty.

Confusion was settling into Miguel's brain. That man, Lumiale…there was something about him that conflicted with Miguel's understanding. And the feeling that settled in his chest when the graceful man grabbed his arm was something to weird too be right. This whirlwind of confusion followed him to the Guardian of Dream's abode. And any hot-blooded man needed a clear mind in such a place.

"I've missed you Miguel!" Olive ran over to the tan skinned man and gave him a big uncomfortable hug. Olivie knew this display of affection, being a man, made Miguel extremely uncomfortable.

"I have your perfumes here," Miguel could only respond. His mind was too caught up in their thoughts to come up with a rant to get Olivie to stop hugging him.

"Alright we'll put them in the back."

"There we are," Miguel grunted placing the box of perfumes on Olivie's vanity mirror. He looked up in the mirror, spotting Olivie behind him fanning himself and frowning, staring at him in a scrutinizing way.

Miguel rolled his eyes, "Olivie, I swear to god, if you're staring at my ass…"

The drag queen scoffed, "Oh please, get over yourself. You just seem…distracted. Care to tell me what's wrong?"

"Yeah," Miguel sighed, "Not that it will change anything. I will be out of a job."

"What? You mean…"

"The ship was destroyed, so we're grounded. At least until we make enough to get a new one."

"And you need to find a job."

Miguel nodded. Olivie tapped a finger to his chin, slowly giving a broad smirk.

"I believe I know what you can do."

Miguel flinched and shrank a little, afraid of what this Guardian was going to suggest for him.

"Why don't you get a job here? Some Guardian around here will probably want another groundskeeper or caretaker or manservant around here."

Miguel stared at him skeptically, "You're joking right?"

"Why would I be?"

"First of all, I mentioned what happened to pretty much every Guardian I delivered to. You'd think they'd mention something to me if they wanted me. Secondly, I wouldn't fit in. I mean look at me," Miguel gestured to himself, mainly to his tattered clothing.

Olivie scoffed, "Oh, please. If this were an ordinary continent, you'd be the hottest guy in the place."

"Er, thanks?" Miguel said, not sure if that was a compliment or not.

"Why not take this opportunity? We always need a guy to do odd jobs around the place and I'm sure Lumiale and Marcel would like someone to manage their garden every once in a while."

Miguel perked up a bit, "Lumiale?"

"Sure, why?"

"Nothing, nevermind. Olivie I have to get going."

"Alright, just think about it."

***

That night Miguel and his crew gathered all the money they had left and spent some at a local bar and grille. They ate outside on the terrace watching the sunset beyond the sea, an empty void of where their ship should have been.

"Cheers to us," Miguel raised his bottle of beer, "for keeping our heads cool in times of turmoil."

"Cheers."

They clanked their bottles together and took a sip.

"Any luck finding work for ten merchant sailors?"

The captain shrugged, "Some here in there. But it has become apparent that no matter what job we take, we cannot stick together."

"Carlos and I found a few positions available for the local fishery," Martín answered looking a little full of himself, but obviously proud that he had found some place to work.

"Yeah, yeah," Carlos rolled his eyes, "Anyways how did the delivery go?"

"Went as well as could be."

"Did you tell the Guardian of Darkness that his incense didn't come in?"

Miguel shook his head, "No, I passed that on to the Queen's Aide. She could probably deal with him better than I could."

"I doubt Master Clavis would be too upset," Martín grumbled at little. "He's not as bad as you would think."

"Miguel," the captain's low voice said sternly. Miguel looked up to find that he was grinning, "Ever since you came back you've had that dazed and confused look, was someone there that just knocked you off your feet."

The other sailors laughed and hollered in astonishment.

"So who's the lady?"

Miguel tried to wave it away, "There's no lady…"

"Aww, come on," Carlos beamed, "Face it, when you came back you had the glazed look that Martín gets every time he looks at tacos…"

"Hey!"

"I'm telling you guys it's no woman."

"It has to be somebody….wait…"

Miguel let out a sigh and dropped his head onto the table with a clunk, "I don't know what's going on with me."

"You can't be serious," Carlos's eyes were wide in shock, "A guy?"

Miguel's shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug and he lifted his head running his hands over his face, "It must've been the heat."

"Who would've thought that a ladies' man like you would fall for a dude?"

"Well, at least tell us who," the captain was growing impatient with these guessing games.

"The Guardian of Water," Miguel murmured.

Carlos scoffed, "Well, that's understandable."

The other soldiers now stared at Carlos who shrank away a little, "Trust me, Lumiale is finer than most of the women I've seen. It's a shame that he's a man."

Miguel grumbled into his hands, "Yeah a real bloody shame. I'm not even gay, but low and behold I have to run into an extremely feminine man to start the scandal mill."

One of the older sailors leaned forward, "But you can't seriously have the hots for this guy?"

"I don't know and I don't care at this point. I need to find a goddamn job, so can we forget about my messed up attractions."

He took a heavy swig of beer to emphasize the point that he wanted to move on.

"I mean, what the hell am I going to do? My only skills involve boating and a little cooking."

"Which we will miss by the way," Carlos said in a low tone, but obviously sounding sincere. On a ship with nothing but water surrounding them, Miguel could cook up a meal with just about anything.

"Then the key is to not be picky, boy. We can't afford to pick and choose. You'll have to take what's offered," his captain advised.

Miguel thought about what Olivie said. If there was ever an opportunity to get back on one's feet, that drag queen just showed him the way.

Miguel nodded distantly, "You know I can probably work something out."

_Watch out Guardians here I come._

A/N: Miguel is mine and he is somewhat similar to my Alonzo character from Ange Terrestre. His fellow shipmates are mine too. Please Review.


	2. Part 2: Where the River Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Angelique. Again I will warn you, some of the situations suggested are probably unlikely. I'm just having my fun in this sausage fest.

Part 2: Where The River Begins

The discomfort of the heat was messing with all of the Guardians' patience and even the more levelheaded of the Guardians were quickly loosing their cool. Because of this some of the Guardians felt the need to limit their exposure to others, in case, in the off chance, that tempers would cause more issues than what could be dealt with. Luva, always the cheerful one, wasn't adverse to wandering in the gardens or visiting Zephel. Instead, he locked himself in the library with his books, to hide from the summer heat.

Randy, the outdoorsman, kept himself inside, away from the blazing sun, several fans running.

To make matters worse, especially for the Queen's Aide, a few of the workers were hospitalized because of the heat.

Now was not the time to interrupt her teatime with the Queen.

"I have a feeling that this summer will be a difficult one," the Queen said sipping her iced tea.

"Yeah, well, you don't have to deal with nine sweaty, testosterone-driven Guardians. I think it's best to keep them in a sort of time-out and away from each other," Rosalia responded, but her thoughts were interrupted by a man grousing and complaining.

The two women looked over and Rosalia could feel the heat of anger flooding her face.

Oscar had a grungy looking man by the collar escorting the resisting man to them.

"Dammit Oscar, get your paws off me! I know my rights, man! Guardian brutality I say."

"Miguel!" Rosalia exclaimed and then turned her gaze to Oscar, "What's the meaning of this!"

"I caught the merchant loitering by the gates," Oscar responded.

"So you bring him all the way here?"

"He says he has business to discuss with you," Oscar released the man with a violent flick of his wrist and pushed him towards the two women, one of whom was the Queen herself. But Miguel didn't know that.

"What Miguel? What couldn't possibly wait until this heat wave is over?"

Miguel swallowed, "I came here…to ask for a job."

The look she gave him didn't make him feel any better. It was like he asked for her kidney.

"You aren't serious…" Rosalia said with a smirk as if he told a joke.

"I'm dead serious," Miguel shot back in a deadpan tone, "Please don't make me beg."

Rosalia paused for a moment to consider the situation. He obviously was a diligent worker as Miguel had managed to deliver all of the goods on time and in supreme condition. But was he material to work so closely with the Guardians?

"I'll do anything to join this testosterone oven. Mow lawns, serve food, repair fences…" Miguel paused for a brief moment and bit his lip, "I'll even be a personal sex slave if you want."

"We've already got one," the golden haired girl chimed in a bright tone before taking another sip of iced tea.

"What?" Oscar wasn't sure he heard right.

Rosalia's glared at the girl next to her who just smiled.

"Nevermind," Rosalia said quickly. "Fine come with me. I'll see if we have something."

Relief flooded Miguel's chest. He couldn't express his gratitude to her at the moment lest he looked like a fool. But he'd find some way to make it up to her.

Before Rosalia left she hissed in the Queens ear, "You explain this."

Once she and Miguel left, Oscar stood staring at the Queen with an incredulous look across his handsome face.

"A sex slave? Can you do that?"

Angelique just shrugged, "We all have needs. As long as me and Rosalia don't get too attached to this person, it doesn't hinder our work."

"Does Julious know about this? I don't think I've ever heard of a Queen doing this."

"I'm Queen and it's really none of Julious' business. I consider it…avante garde."

"Who?"

The Queen scoffed, "Like I'm going to tell you."

"Marcel's too young. Is it Zephel?" Oscar pressed.

"Eww, no," Angelique nearly laughed at the idea.

"Randy?"

"Nope."

"Please tell me it's not Julious."

Angelique rolled her eyes, "God no. I'm not an idiot."

///////

Miguel followed Rosalia into her office.

"What exactly do you want to do? Gardening? Cooking…dare I say…"

"Hey!" Miguel stopped her, "I'll have you know that I can cook pretty well, thank you."

"Clavis hates seafood and Marcel hates meat."

"Then they're screwed," Miguel responded quickly. "Look, I'll do all of it. I'll be the dude that does the odd jobs. Setting the tables, repairing fences, being the messenger between your estranged Guardians, all of it."

Rosalia thought about the servant situation. Contrary to popular belief the Sanctuary did not have many servants and sometimes they had to call someone from the outside to do something odd, like repaint the gazebo in the central garden. It would be convenient to have someone close at hand to do things like that.

"I warn you, it doesn't pay much."

"Is food and shelter provided?" Miguel asked, the pace of his voice going faster.

"Yes."

"Then you can pay me as little as you want."

Rosalia reached in her drawer and pulled out a logbook, writing his name down to the list of staff, "Alright, just don't get in the Guardians' ways."

There was a pause as Miguel glared at her, "What are you afraid I'm going to do? Run around and over salt their food?"

Rosalia ignored his quip, "When can you start?"

Without missing a beat Miguel answered, "Immediately. Tomorrow if you need me."

Rosalia placed her hands on her hips and sighed, "Alright, give me time to arrange housing near one of the Guardians. Then come back tomorrow morning, we'll have you set."

Miguel pressed his hands together in a prayer gesture whispering, "Thank you."

"Just don't make me regret this."

///////

"Olivie?"

"Just stop guessing…"

"Lumiale?"

"Jeesh. No."

"It's Clavis isn't it? Dammit! I knew it the first time I met him, that his overactive pheromones or…whatever…would cause trouble," Oscar whined, cursing Clavis' "sexy and unapproachable" vibe that he gave off. Curiously Clavis didn't seem to notice it, or care.

Angelique shook her head, "Even if you guessed right. There's no way I'd tell you."

"It can't be Luva. I adore the guy, but I can't see him with a penis," he paused realizing the absurdity of his statement, "I don't mean that he's gay, I just can't see him in a sexual relationship with any one. He's…asexual, you know."

Angelique had enough and waved both her hands to silence any more of Oscar's guesses, "Just stop, Oscar. Forget about it. It was just something I said as a joke. There's nothing going on."

"Yeah…right," Oscar said, skepticism creeping in his tone.

Rosalia and Miguel returned.

"Everything's taken care of," Rosalia announced with a sigh, "Now off with you."

"Got it!" Miguel ran off.

"Come back early tomorrow!" Rosalia called after him. Miguel turned a little, still keeping his pace and yelled back, "You complete me!"

//////

Miguel was not a man who liked to wake up too early. Unfortunately he had to drag his tired body out of the old box-spring bed of his hotel room and walk to the sanctuary. He arrived at the gates a little after sunrise, carrying everything he owned (which wasn't much except for a few articles of clothing.)

He was allowed through the gate and waited for Rosalia. She came down and met him by the fountain.

Miguel smiled, showing his white teeth, "Rosalia, you always look good in the morning."

Rosalia rolled her eyes, but noticed Miguel's smile fade, turning into awe and the color drain from his face. Right behind Rosalia was the Guardian of Water himself.

"Miguel," Rosalia said, "This is Lumiale, the Guardian of Water. You'll be staying on his property here. It has central location so you can get to jobs easier. And when you're not doing jobs, you'll be his personal servant."

Miguel could only nod, lowering his eyes. _It figures. _Rosalia's brow furrowed at Miguel's odd behavior. She looked back at Lumiale, who shrugged.

"Is something the matter? Lumiale's the only one who has room. I was going to put you in an available room in the Guardian of Steel's mansion if it didn't have at least nine health code violations."

"No, it would be an honor," Miguel responded quietly giving Lumiale a shy smile.

Rosalia took a glance at the sack Miguel carried that contained what was left of his belongings.

"Is that all you have?"

"And what part about my ship being destroyed are you not getting exactly?"

"I just want to make sure you're all set."

"Micromanage much?"

Rosalia retaliated by waving her finger at him. "Don't confuse me with Julious."

Meanwhile, Lumiale could only watch them banter back and forth, suspecting that they had some sort of history with each other. Miguel's tone in his conversation was so much different than when he had his conversation with him yesterday. He could only wonder who the true Miguel was: the shy man from yesterday or the witty man he saw now.

Rosalia turned to Lumiale who was just watching the two fight.

"Lumiale, I'll leave this to you. I would like to apologize beforehand for saddling him up with you."

The blue haired man just laughed, "I'm sure it'll be alright."

Rosalia turned to Miguel sounding like a mother to her difficult child, "Now, Miguel I want you to behave yourself. Lumiale has better things to do than babysit you."

"Got it."

The walk to Lumiale's mansion was quiet and awkward. Lumiale didn't know why and he couldn't help but think that possibly Miguel didn't like him. He wondered if he had offended him in some way. Miguel just wanted to keep his mouth shut lest he said something that offended the Guardian of Water. He didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

"I confess, I never really had a personal servant," Lumiale said, breaking the ice. "Julious, Oscar and Olivie have one. All for different reasons."

"I can imagine, sir," Miguel said with a short laugh, trying not to imagine what Olivie had his personal servants do. Lumiale felt the tightness in his chest leave when Miguel laughed.

"Please, call me Lumiale."

"Lumiale…"Miguel repeated, feeling how it rolled off his tongue. He turned his head and smiled at the smaller man.

Lumiale's eyebrows rose when he witnessed Miguel's full smile. It was a cheerful smile but wasn't mischievous or flirtatious like Oscar's. It showed Miguel's white teeth that contrasted with his olive skin and dingy clothes.

They approached a small shack-like house in the corner of Lumiale's garden that was covered from the sun by the trees. It looked like it hadn't been used in a long time and Lumiale apologized to Miguel as he opened the door.

"I hadn't used this house much so it's a little dirty. This used to be the living quarters of one of the previous guardians' assistants."

The inside was dark and full of dust, and the layout was like a large hotel room with a kitchenette, a bed and a sitting area all in one room while the bathroom was behind a separate door.

"Holy-," Miguel prevented himself from cursing. "It looks like dust bunnies exploded in here."

Lumiale tried hard not to laugh at the mental image of imaginary dust bunnies spontaneously exploding into puffs of dust.

"Again I apologize for not tidying this place up."

Miguel just shrugged, "Not a problem. I can try to get this place looking brand new."

He sat down on the bed, surprised the feel that the mattress wasn't nearly as lumpy as it looked.

"Hey, it's not bad at all," he said bouncing a little then standing up. "A lot better than the hotel I'm staying in."

"Well that's good," Lumiale said, pleased to see that the room was to Miguel's satisfaction. "I will be gone for most of the day, but please make yourself at home here."

He handed Miguel a key ring with a few keys, "This first one is the key to the main gate. The other is the key to this place."

Miguel took the keys and stared at them, "Thanks."

"Have a good day," Lumiale smiled and left closing the door behind him.

Miguel sighed and looked around the place. It was small and habitable. He could get used to it. He walked over to one of the windows and looked out. There he could see the porch to Lumiale's mansion, not to mention the rest of the garden, so the view wasn't bad. And the trees over the shack provided shade from the blistering heat. He plopped on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Yeah, he could get used to this.

//////

"You shacked up with Lumiale?!"

It was the evening and Miguel, Carlos and the others were out at the usual terrace, drinking. Miguel had just told them about his new job. Of course, Carlos blew the situation way out of proportion.

Miguel spat out his drink and frantically waved his hands.

"No! We didn't 'shack up'!"

"But you're practically living with him. And working for him."

"Phrasing…" Martín murmured, before taking a sip.

"Is it really going to be alright for you?" Paolo asked.

"It's not like we're sharing beds, yeesh. We're just pretty much neighbors, that's it."

"I'm gonna give you binoculars for your birthday," Carlos muttered into his bottle.

Miguel's eyes widened at bit, "That's just sick."

"Oh come on. You can take a joke."

Miguel could only grumble and placed his head in his hands.

Carlos laughed and let up, "Well just think. You can meet all of the ladies that work for these men and then you can 'shack up' with one of Oscar's maids…that is if you're still interested in women."

"For the last time, I'm not gay! I am attracted to women."

Carlos shook his head, feeling kind of sorry for the poor guy, "You're in denial, my friend. At the very least you're bi-curious in regards to the Guardian of Water."

"Can we just talk about something else?"

//////

Lumiale walked out of the Royal Palace into the night, alone. At least he thought he was alone.

"Hey, Lumiale!" Olivie's singsong voice called. The drag queen walked over to the Guardian of Water, heels clicking on the stone pathway. "I hear Miguel's working for you now."

"You know Miguel?"

Olivie shrugged, "He used to deliver my stuff. That was until I heard he was out of work."

Lumiale nodded, "Yes, he has had a wave misfortune hit him and his friends."

"It's a really shame. Such a nice guy."

"Indeed."

"What are you going to have him do?"

Lumiale shrugged, "With this heat, I don't if I should give him more work than what is needed around here."

"Oh, I'm sure you can find something for that beefcake of a man," Olivie said with a smirk and walked off before Lumiale could respond, whispering to himself, "So cute."


	3. Part 3: Draining the Drain

Disclaimer: Not mine

Part 3: Draining the Drain

A sharp knock came at Miguel's door. He grumbled and lifted himself out of bed. He regretted it as soon as he did. His head was pounding and the knocking only made it worse.

"Alright, I'm coming."

Miguel opened the door and a man with short dirty blonde hair was on the other side. The man gave him a look over and raised an eyebrow.

"You the new guy?"

Miguel's eyes were squinting because of the morning sunlight. "Dude, who the hell are you?" he mumbled.

"That's not important right now. Get dressed, we need you."

"Hold on bud, where's the fire?" Miguel started rubbing his aching head.

"That's just it. There's been an accident at the Guardian of Steel's and we need as many people as we can."

Miguel sighed and yawned, "Alright, alright. Just a sec." He turned back and slipped on some pants and shirt, not really caring if they were clean or not.

He followed the man all the way the Guardian of Steel's mansion. The sight woke Miguel up. The glass windows of one of the rooms had shattered, the windowsills charred.

"Apparently one of his experiments had gone awry causing an explosion the blonde man beside him said.

"There would be an explosion the morning a I have a hangover."

The man did a double take, glaring at him, "You were out drinking?"

"Yes," Miguel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "But I usually don't drink that much. Why am I here?"

"Can you climb into relatively small areas?" the man asked sheepishly taking in Miguel's size. Miguel was tall and muscular, so the question was probably really stupid.

Surprisingly the brown-haired man shrugged, "It depends."

"We need help removing some of the damaged belongs and get into the piping system. The explosion caused damage to the pipes."

"I've got to ask, is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, the Guardian was just knocked out for a few moments."

Miguel looked over to the side seeing a silver-haired young man with a bandage over his forehead sitting on the ground, a sour look on his face.

"Ah you two," a soft-spoken voice called. A man wearing green robes and a turban came running towards them. When the Guardian of Earth reached them, he stopped, placing his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

Miguel smiled a little, "Corra, mi amigo, corre!(Run, my friend, run!) Are you alright?"

Luva nodded and swallowed a breath, "I'm sorry about this. Zephel's tends to ignore safety precautions."

Luva stood up and reached inside his robes, "I found the plans of the plumbing in his mansion."

"Well," Miguel turned to the blonde man beside him, "that makes things easier."

The man just shook his head and Miguel jogged forward and dove into he broken window.

Luva and the blonde man crawled in through the window as well. The trinkets and equipment were strewn all over the place. Some of the metal of the equipment was melted and charred beyond repair. A complete disaster.

"There should be a panel in the ceiling that leads to the pipes." Luva said inspecting the plan. He pointed to a panel in the corner of the room. "I think it's that one."

Miguel turned to the blonde man and Luva, "Well, one of you has gotta help me up."

The man sighed and stood under the panel, flexing his shoulders.

Miguel climbed on the man's back. As he did so, the man grumbled, "This doesn't help with the heat."

He stood up straight, but his knees wobbled under Miguel's weight. "Hurry up."

"Okay, okay," Miguel punched the panel in and crawled up into the ceiling. They could hear his voice echo within the tiles.

"It's actually kind of roomy in here."

"Do you see some pipes?" Luva called up.

"Yeah, a whole lot of them," Miguel called, "Quick question, is the only reason I'm up here is because I'm the 'new meat'?"

The blonde man squinted and shrugged at Luva, "New Meat?"

"Yeah, kind of an induction ceremony for the new guy," Miguel called back down. "I never really got your name. I've been calling you 'blonde dude' in my head the whole time."

"Well, 'Meat', I am Jasper, one of the housekeepers of the Royal Palace. Now can we get on with this?"

"Right, right, hrmm…oh! Oh yeah, well here's your problem…"

"What do you see?"

"It appears to be some leakage….uh….now a lot of leakage."

Luva looked around, "Where's that main valve…?"

"It looks like it just knocked the pipe loose. I think I can fix it…"

"Hold it right there," Luva crawled back out through the window.

Meanwhile, Miguel was trapped in a dark vent, water pouring all over his head. Thankfully it was so hot outside so it wasn't so bad. Luva came back panting again, holding something shiny in his hand.

"A wrench," he gasped as he handed it to Jasper.

"Hey, here's a wrench for you!" Jasper called and he threw the tool up into the vent where it made a loud thud accompanied by Miguel yelling, "Ow! God!"

There were unidentifiable noises, mainly clanging, and squeaking as Luva and Jasper waited for any sign of an update. Japer was still a little wary about letting Miguel do this. After all he was new, and he didn't necessarily seem the type of guy who knew what he was doing. The first impression when Miguel practically told him he had a hangover didn't sit well with him either. One good thing was that he didn't complain too much about it.

"Alright I think it should be fine. Try it out," Miguel called.

Jasper found the nearest bathroom and turned on the faucet. Water began to run. He flushed the toilet. It swirled down perfectly. He poked his head back into the damaged room, "Everything seems to be in order Master Luva."

Luva sighed and with a broad warm smile, he yelled up the vent, "Ahh, thank you. You did perfectly. You can come on down."

Clanking could be heard up in the ceiling until Miguel dropped down from the vent on his feet. His head and chest was drenched in water, droplets trickling from the ends of his hair.

"Anyone have a towel?"

Jasper chuckled and clapped Miguel on the back, surprised that he succeeded, "I'm sure a few minutes outside should dry you right up, Meat."

Miguel blinked at the nickname but shrugged.

"But not before you help us move the damaged furniture and equipment."

Miguel shook his head. _Figures._

"My, my, what happened here?" Lumiale's soft voice asked as he observed some of the workers picking up glass and moving destroyed equipment. Of course he knew what happened, by now everyone in the Sanctuary heard about Zephel's accident.

Luva greeted the Guardian of Water with his usual cheerful smile, "Ahh, Zephel was working hard this morning."

"And now everyone's working hard."

"Yes indeed. The man living on your property rather saved the day, repairing broken pipes."

"So he has his uses," Lumiale laughed, but the laughter faded a little as he spotted Miguel helping Jasper move a large metal table from within the damaged room outside. Both he and Jasper looked uncomfortable in this heat, sweating all over. Well, even Lumiale and Luva were sweating just standing there.

Miguel and Jasper grunted in exertion as they dropped the metal desk onto the grass. Miguel braced himself on the desk trying to catch his breath. Jasper laughed in between breaths as he walked over and clapped Miguel on the back, "All we need to do is clean up the broken light fixtures, then its lunch."

Miguel smiled and nodded.

Just as Jasper promised, after they finished cleaning up the light fixtures they decided to break for lunch. Alonzo always wondered where the help ate lunch. Jasper led him to the kitchens, where some of the other servants and helpers were eating lunch at the counter.

"This is pretty much where most of us hang out, there are some sandwiches in the fridge."

"Thanks," Miguel looked around the kitchen area. About five other servants were there. Most were guys except for one young girl. Jasper brought Miguel in front of them and they turned from their conversations and lunch.

"Gentlemen and ladies, this is Miguel, the new guy."

"Ah, Lumiale's pet," a man (?) who had a whole lot of makeup smirked. He (or she) was obviously one of Olive's servants.

"Enough, René, he's the new handyman."

Miguel glared at Jasper, "That phrasing didn't make it sound any better."

Jasper blinked and nodded towards a young man sitting on next the counter eating a sandwich. He was sort of a funny looking guy. He was thin, gawky and awkward looking with tan skin. He reminded Miguel of a bird.

"That's Amir," Jasper said.

"Hello," Amir greeted briefly before going back to his sandwich.

"He manages Master Clavis' house."

Miguel grimaced, "How's that working for you?"

"Pretty well, he keeps the place pretty clean. We seem to get each other in a nonverbal way."

Amir's voice was quick and clipped, as if he were reciting the most matter-of-fact thing.

Jasper pointed to the young girl, "That's Sophia, one of Master Oscar's laundresses."

"I pity you."

The girl nodded, understanding the pity. She was a young girl and only a laundress but that didn't stop Oscar's advances. It wasn't that he harassed her yet, but his winks and flirts were annoying.

"Who's that?" Miguel asked looking at an older man who was sitting near the back. He was about mid thirty and had cropped platinum blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. He didn't seem to be a particularly warm or outgoing guy.

"That's Gandalf. He's Master Julious' assistant."

"Seriously? His name is Gandalf?"

"No, we just call him Gandalf," René shrugged. "He has one of those names that have like five consonants strung together and none of us can pronounce it."

At the moment, another woman barged into the kitchen, "How many times do I have to tell you guys not to eat on the counter!"

The young woman had long wavy brown hair tied in the back and she was carrying two bags of flour. She dropped both bags on the counter and placed her hands on her hips glaring at everyone.

"Alright, alright, Gloria," René groaned, "no need to get your apron in a twist."

Gloria's eyes narrowed at René, "Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged, "I don't know."

Jasper leaned and whispered to Miguel, "She's the cook."

Gloria's head whipped around, her glare piercing them. Jasper shrank.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked eyes traveling up and down Miguel's figure. Jasper was the one to answer, "This is Miguel. Lumiale's new servant."

She blinked twice, obviously surprised at his position. Miguel smiled and waved shyly.

"You're kidding," she said bluntly.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Miguel asked defensively.

"I find that most of the servants and workers of Guardians have characteristics that match their Guardian. Gandalf has no sense of humor, René is a raging drag queen, and Amir is…" Gloria glanced over at Amir. He looked up from his sandwich and cocked his head. "…well Amir maybe is the exception, but you are the exact opposite of Master Lumiale."

Miguel frowned, "Eh! You don't know that."

Jasper laughed nervously, "Oh, I think we can give him a chance. And he's not just Lumiale's servant. He's also a handyman."

"I'll be the judge of that!" Gloria turned away, "Now all of you get out. I have dinner to prepare."

They all grumbled and filed out, many of them halfway done with their lunch

René bumped into Miguel, "She's always like that when she needs to cook."

"Yeah, and I'm out of a sandwich."

Miguel was immediately put back to work in straightening out the Guardian of Steel's destroyed workshop. But as the afternoon hit, it was not only hot, it became thick and humid beyond belief. At one point he was forced to take his shirt off. He didn't know if that was allowed or not on the Sanctuary but he frankly didn't care. Everything was cleaned by dinnertime and Miguel rushed to the kitchens to get a sandwich before he ran into Gloria again. But it was too late.

"Dammit! I said no raiding the-" she stopped when she saw him and sighed. "Oh its you."

"Gloria, pleasure as always," Miguel mocked, taking a bite out of the sandwich. "Are sandwiches all the servants allowed to have?"

"No, some buy and make their own food. And sometimes there are leftovers from the Guardian banquets."

"So you make extra food?"

Gloria whipped out a bowl and plopped it on the counter, "No, I can very precise."

"I would imagine," Miguel said to himself. "It'd be great if we could frequent your cuisine. You make a little extra and we all hang here and complement your cooking, while the Guardians talk about…Guardian stuff."

The chef rushed to the sink and washed her hands, "Oh no, my kitchen is not a 'hang out' joint. I'm not a soda jerk handing out milkshakes while you guys swing to the jukebox."

Miguel nodded, getting the reference.

"Besides, this is fine dining. This is food you probably can't pronounce."

Miguel picked up her list and took a look at it, "I don't know…the fact that we are both Iberian begs to differ…"  
Gloria scoffed and snatched the list out of his hands, "How did you know where I came from?"

"Oh please…your accent is so thick that blind and deaf people know your Iberian."

"And how is it you don't have an accent?"

"I intermingle…"

Gloria turned back to her work, quickly losing patience with the new guy, "Whatever."

"How about if I help cater one night, you make extra for all of us."

Gloria laughed aloud, "You? Cater? That'll be the day. Some of those Guardians come from refined, noble families. I don't think they would want to waited on by a man who has a woolly mammoth scalp on his head."

Miguel could only smirk, "I am to work where I am needed."

Gloria sighed, "Fine. One night. Tomorrow evening, got it?"

Miguel gave the "O.K" sign with his fingers and left with his sandwich.

The night air was cool; a complete contrast from during the day and also a relief. As Miguel walked back home in the night, he could think of nothing but his future here. It would obviously take a little adjustment time until he set out a routine for himself. Sure, his first day went pretty well and on all outward appearances he was adjusting well; making good conversation with Guardians and servants alike. On the inside, however, he was still nervous. Not every Guardian or servant knew him as well as Olivie or Rosalia. But he knew the Guardians, for the most part. He knew that Julious was a stick in the mud and Oscar was also a stickler for protocol if it didn't involve rules about not touching women. Olivie was...well...Olivie and Luva was a lovable man, similar to a teddy bear. Lumiale...Lumiale was still sort of a mystery. Like Luva, he seemed kind, but in a different way. A soothing way. But that was all Miguel could get out of his neighbor.

Miguel couldn't help but think about what Gloria had said. He was kind of the opposite of fair and gentle Lumiale, and that didn't make him feel better.

As he stopped in front of his small house to unlock the door, he heard music. Gentle music. A harp. He stopped and looked over at the porch of the mansion. There he could see the Guardian of water sitting, his delicate fingers plucking the strings of his harp. Miguel didn't realize he was staring until Lumiale looked up and smiled. Miguel swallowed and waved, before turning to finally unlock the door. Miguel didn't bother stripping and instead collapsed on his bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to Lumiale's harp.

A/N: My spanish above is loose. I never took spanish, but my roommate is studying so she gave me the loose translation. If its wrong, blame her. Please review


	4. Part 4: What We Have On Tap

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this except for characters of my own creation.

Part 4: What We Have On Tap

Jasper approached Miguel the next day, "Hey! Meat!"

Miguel flinched at the nickname, a little perturbed with the new name.

"Word around here says that you made a bet with Gloria."

Miguel's brow furrowed and he glanced around the area outside the palace, wondering who could've told Jasper or anyone else.

Jasper knew what irked Miguel, "René's that good."

"So you're going to serve the guardians dinner," he continued. Miguel could only nod.

"Count me in," Jasper said quickly before turning on his heel to leave.

"What?"

Jasper spoke over his shoulder, "We all want to try Gloria's fresh cooking."

Miguel had little idea what just happened and wondered just how many others would show up in Gloria's kitchen that night. He shuddered at what she would do when she found other servants crowding her kitchen, just for a crack at some of her special food. No doubt she would place the blame on the new guy who had the balls to challenge her.

Now, Miguel felt, he really had to impress. He certainly couldn't change his personality. Well, he could try, but he would feel cheated.

Miguel threw caution to the wind and marched on over to Olivie's mansion.

At the entrance to the Guardian of Dream's private residence, Miguel took a deep breath and swallowed his pride as he knocked on the door. René answered the door and grinned broadly when he saw Miguel on the other side.

"Is Olivie here?"

"No, sorry."

Miguel was a little disappointed but here was plan B, "Maybe you could help me."

René stepped outside the door crossing his arms, "Depends on what it is. Shoot…"

000000

Several hours later, Miguel arrived in Gloria's kitchen. The chef glanced up from her task of dicing vegetables. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw the young man's appearance.

"Well…I may have underestimated you," she said.

"Yeah, you better make double doses of whatever your making. I could use some fillet mignon right about now."

Gloria sighed and went back to her chopping, muttering under her breath, "I didn't underestimate you by much it seems."

"What can I do?"

"You can start by setting the table, the dishes are already on the table."

"Right on it!" Miguel pushed back the swinging door to the dining hall and stopped almost immediately.

There in blue robes, was the Guardian of Water, laying the dishes on the table. Miguel backed into the kitchen unnoticed.

"We have a problem…"

Gloria laid her knife down calmly._ Figures._ "What…now?"

"Er, the Guardian of Water is out there setting the table…"

"Oh for heaven's sake…the Guardians aren't invalids. If he wants to help, well that means less work for you. The least you can do is go out there and help him."

Miguel did as he was told and pushed open the kitchen door. Lumiale didn't seem to notice him, until he picked up the plates and silver ware.

"Let me help you take care of this," Miguel offered as he arranged the plates around the table.

Lumiale smiled, taking in Miguel's appearance, surprised. Miguel had shaved and combed back and trimmed his messy hair.

"You certainly look nice today."

Miguel's face flushed involuntarily, "Thank you. But don't expect it to last long. I'm not the type of person to constantly groom myself."

Lumaile chuckled, "Understandable. Ah, would you look at that."

There were at least two places lacking dishes and silverware.

"It seems we are short."

"I'll get more-GAHH!" Miguel turned but was immediately startled by a tall looming figure standing directly behind him. Miguel jumped back against the table clutching his heart.

"Jeez! God!" he exclaimed. The tall dark man gave the servant a questioning look.

"I swear I paid back that loan shark the two-hundred I owed," Miguel rambled, panicky.

"Miguel," Lumaile called. Miguel turned his head. "That's just Clavis."

The unnerved servant looked up and down the Guardian of Darkness' imposing figure. "My lord you're tall. Come on, I need to you to reach something for me."

Clavis remained silent, but his brow was knit together. At that moment, Gloria pushed open the kitchen door. "Miguel! Get in here!"

Miguel slid away from the tall, dark-haired man and ran into the kitchen.

"What now?"

"Here," Gloria threw him some clothes. "Put that suit on. You're going to look decent when you wait on them."

"You just want me to take off my clothes."

Gloria pursed her lips, "Yes and put those on. Get over yourself."

Miguel just smiled and winked.

About a half an hour later, the servants participating this night huddled around Gloria and the other cooks, like soldiers receiving a plan of action.

"First off, thank you all for helping out tonight. I know some of you would rather be elsewhere…"

"We just want your cooking…" a servant said.

"If all goes well," Gloria said pointedly, "I have nominated Miguel as our head waiter, the rest will help prepare food and clean dishes. It's Miguel's challenge, it's Miguel's job."

Jasper clapped Miguel on the shoulder, "No pressure."

"That means you have to tone it down. Wash hands vigorously and no flirting," Gloria flicked her gaze to René who glared back, "Why do you look at me when you say that."

"Who should I be looking at?"

There was a short pause before René sheepishly responded, "Me."

Gloria nodded, "That's right, now let's get going."

Out in the dining hall, the nine Guardians and the Queen's Aide took their seats at the table, making small talk and conversation. A popular subject was the explosion in Zephel's mansion. The particular room was still in repair.

"Really? You guys can't make it one day without mentioning that," the hotheaded young man growled. A few of the older Guardians chuckled.

"The fact that it doesn't happen so often is why we talk about it," Luva assured his "younger brother."

"Let's just have a refreshing dinner and get away from this heat," Rosalia said in a soft tone, bypassing one of Zephel's upcoming outbursts.

As soon as she said it, the newest of the Sanctuary's staff entered, "Good evening gentlemen."

"Oh God," Rosalia groaned bringing her hand to her brow, as if she had a sudden migraine.

"Oh, wow, Miguel," Olivie grinned, taking in Miguel's trimmed and cleaned hair and waiter's suit. He wore a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black vest over it with matching black pants. "You certainly look nice."

"Well thank you, your servant was most helpful." Miguel turned to his side to Rosalia, "See? Someone has the decency to complement my efforts."

Rosalia rolled her eyes, "Oh please…it's a difference between common hygiene and food poisoning.

Miguel stared at the woman in silence, give her a scrutinizing stare, "Does your jaw unhinge when you capture prey?"

He didn't pay attention to the glare she gave. He shook his head and pulled out a pad and pen from the breast pocket of his vest, speaking in a strangely confident tone given the environment, "For those who don't know me, I'm Miguel. I'll be your temporary server tonight. I know you all have the usual, but I don't know them so humor me. Let's start with drinks."

Rosalia started knowing that the other guardians were a little surprised by Miguel's confrontational personality.

"Iced tea. If you please."

"Alright," Miguel murmured softly, scribbling the order down on the pad of paper. The other Guardians happily gave their order. Miguel was curious as to what would happen when he got to Clavis. He had yet to hear the quiet man speak.

"Irish coffee," the dark man said colorlessly.

Miguel's brow rose, "Hard liquor huh?"

As he wrote on his pad he murmured, "Hey, I'm assuming you're over twenty-one and legal. Who am I to judge?"

Miguel turned to Rosalia and Julious rolling his eyes and mouthing, "Wow."

"Alright, I'll be back with all your beverages."

Olivie watched him go through the kitchen door and nudged Luva, "He cleans up nice, don't you think?"

Lumiale leaned over, peering at Rosalia, "There isn't any sort of history between you two, is there?"

Rosalia's face soured. She was shocked that Lumiale could make such an insinuation.

"Not in the way you're thinking," she answered sharply, "No were are more like bitter siblings now. Trust me, after his first few times delivering my materials he was flirting with me so much that Oscar would have to keep up with him. He wanted anything to keep a conversation while the delivery was completed."

"And out of the goodness of your heart you gave him a job here of all places," Oscar grumbled.

"My heavens!" Rosalia exclaimed in realization, as she craned her head towards the blue haired Guardian, "He's not the same with you is he?"

Lumiale shook his head, "He's fine. I have no complaints…"

"Let's hope it stays that way."

Miguel returned with a tray of drinks, he placed the drinks one by one for everyone except one, the last man to give his order. Miguel noticed a blonde young man staring at his drink in curiosity. Dammit.

"I know," Miguel said taking Julious' drink and the champagne glass in front of Marcel and switching the glasses to where they should be, "You're too young to drink. Brief lapse in judgment."

Miguel called over the Clavis, "Don't worry, your party in a glass will be out in a moment."

After he was all settled, he strode back to the kitchen door, lightly cuffing Clavis on the shoulder, "Buckle up, big fella."

Julious had to cover his mouth to keep from showing his amusement at Clavis' uneasiness. Clavis lifted his eyes to meet his best friend's across the way, in a penetrating stare.

Lumiale could only shrug, with a smile of curiosity on his face.

"Well, at least we know one of the Guardians has an alcohol problem that he likes to hide," Miguel announced to the kitchen. Jasper, who was making the Irish coffee, turned, "What makes you say that?"

"Look at his drink of choice. It's whiskey hidden by coffee and cream. It says it all."

"It's not like he's the only one who ordered alcohol."

Miguel scoffed at the statement, "Oh, please. Champagne? If it's something you'll let your kids try, it's not alcohol. No he wants the hard stuff."

Gloria rolled her eyes, "I hardly think that Clavis is an alcoholic."

"I never said he was. But if it goes unchecked…"

Jasper shoved the glass of Irish coffee in Miguel's hand, "I don't think that's something you should be worried about."

Miguel went back outside to deliver Clavis' drink and take the Guardian's orders. Of course, some of the Guardian's had French cuisine dishes, but Miguel repeated the orders back, pronouncing them perfectly.

As he turned to the kitchen, opening the door, Rosalia stopped him, "I am quite surprised that you managed to pronounce everything correctly."

The words were complementary, but the way she said them suggested otherwise. Miguel responded with sly smirk, "Oh, Rosalia, you'd be surprised at how many languages I know. For example, my finger is giving you a little sign language behind this door right now."

Rosalia just had to laugh and shook her head, "Touché…"

Marcel leaned over to whisper to Randy, "I don't get it…"

Randy laughed, "You'll understand when you're older."

The rest of the evening went well and quite amusing with the light banter between Miguel and Rosalia. The others in the back were waiting patiently for the Guardians to finish all the while refilling beverages. Finally when the last Guardian left through the large wooden doors and Miguel and Jasper cleaned up all the dishes, the kitchen filled with cheers. Miguel, his mouth split in a wide smile, hopped in front of Gloria, arms stretched wide.

"Well, we did it. What do you think of that?"

Gloria raised an eyebrow, and placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, you should be proud of yourself. Even though you showed very little self-restraint."

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, "Now, we had a deal. If the night went well, we'd get to taste your food. Quid-pro-quo. Where's my quo?

Gloria rolled up the sleeves of her chef's outfit to her upper arm and strode to the oven.

"It's a home town favorite. I was hoping you would like this," she said as she pulled a tray of sizzling pork tips that were kept warm in the oven.

"Carnitas."

The people around groaned in satisfaction. The sound of them still sizzling made everyone's mouth water.

Miguel's brow nearly disappeared into his brow line, "Carnitas? What because I'm Iberian, I have to like carnitas?"

"You don't like carnitas?"

"Hell yeah I do," he exclaimed, plucking a pork tip from the tray and taking a large bite out of it.

The others with smiles on their faces poured over the spiced pork like hounds to a carcass. One of the other chefs popped open a champagne bottle and poured glasses. Originally, Gloria would've been displeased to see such hooligans running amok in her kitchen, but she let loose, meeting Miguel's dashing smile with one of her own.

A/N: believe it or not, this took me a while to write. It sets the setting for how the other Guardians will feel about their servants. My writing was a little lame for this chapter. It will get better, I hope. Review anyway, please.


	5. Part 5: The Chrystalline Ripple

All Disclaimer's apply

Part 5: A Crystalline Ripple

In the days following the dinner with him as a waiter, Miguel spent his days resuming his duties as a handyman. Zephel's mansion was repaired and cleaned, thankfully, and that left room for other jobs to be done. Unfortunately, the heat wave wasn't letting up, in fact, it seemed it was getting hotter. Jasper and Miguel were helping each other do one-man jobs, because of the heat. Then the water fountain in the garden broke, and he and Jasper felt like heroes when they fixed it as several of guardians cheered, cupping their hands under the fresh water and splashing it on their faces. Soon, the same fountain had to be cleaned. That was Miguel's job.

He picked early morning to do it, when the sun seemed less intense to begin scrubbing the pool of the fountain. He was on his hands and knees on the dried up floor of the pool, whistling a tune, cleaning up the dirt and grime the fountain had accumulated. Then he heard a shout. He peered over the edge of the pool. He saw two young guardians yelling. Zephel punched Randy in the face, for some unknown reason. Luva was quick to act and tried to wedge himself in between the two struggling guardians.

Miguel jumped out of the fountain and rushed over to restrain Zephel. The hotheaded guardian began flaying about, yelling obscenities.

Miguel just chuckled, "Alright, little guy, just take a deep breath, and settle down."

That only made Zephel struggle more, like a small dog struggling to attack an intruder. Maybe he could use a muzzle.

"What's going on?" Miguel asked. Luva held Randy back by the shoulders, but used little effort. Randy wasn't itching to attack Zephel, instead his hand was over his bloody nose.

"Nothing. He just snapped. I just reminded him to be careful with his inventions," Randy pointed to a small, mechanized aeroplane lying on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Randy," Luva apologized, "This heat is getting to everyone."

"I'd say," Miguel said, not realizing that Zephel was still and snoring in his arms.

"Uh…" Luva pointed to the unconcious Zephel.

Miguel looked down and to his horror the Guardian of Steel was hanging limply in his arms.

"Oh, crap," the handyman laid the young man down on the ground and started rubbing his back. "I must've held him too hard."

Finally, Zephel's red eyea opened. Randy and Luva stepped back fully expecting Zephel to lash out at Lumiale's handyman. The Guardian of Steel staggered to his feet, "How…did you do that?"

"Ever heard of a sleeper hold? It's an old tactic we used to put sailors in time-out on the ship since walking the plank generally frowned upon by the locals. But for you it was a total accident, I swear."

Zephel threw his arms up in the air in a huff, "Whatever." The Guardian of Steel knew he couldn't take on the larger man and so he stalked off in the direction of his newly repaired mansion.

Luva apologized, "I'm sorry about him. Excuse me. Zephel!"

The gentle Guardian rushed after the young man as fast as he could in robes and in the heat.

Miguel turned to Randy who was still holding his nose, "Is it bleeding?"

The young man silently nodded.

Miguel pressed on Randy's forehead, tilting it back, "Then keep your head back. Do you know if there is medical office here?"

Randy nodded, "Back up at the Royal Palace."

"Alright, let's head there."

"I don't mean to put you off-"

Miguel shrugged and laughed using one of the spare rags to cover Randy's now profusely bloody nose, "It'll get me out of this heat."

Inside the Royal Palace, Miguel opened the door to the Medic's office, allowing Randy go in before him. Randy sat down on a bed, keeping his head back.

"I warn you, I'm no doctor, but let's see if we can't find something to stop the bleeding," Miguel searched through the cabinets for gauze.

Randy couldn't see the handyman with his head back, but he could hear him rustling through some cabinets.

"Alright," he mumbled, holding a roll of gauze, "Let's see that nose."

Randy cautiously removed the rag from his nose, feeling panic when he saw how red it was. Miguel's large hand tilted his head back.

"Keep your head back, please."

Randy did as he was asked, giving his trust to this man who was taking small pieces of gauze and plugging Randy's nostrils.

"There…"

"Thanks," Randy said, lightly touching his nose. He was about to express more gratitude when the door flew open. There in his robed and golden haired glory was Julious. Randy flinched, expected to get a tirade about getting involved in a fight. Instead, he directed his hard gaze at Miguel, who stood stock-still.

"Miguel, I need you for a second."

He didn't respond, a look of confusion on his face.

With a sigh Julious clarified, "One of the air conditioning units went out. I need you to repair it."

"But you just wanted me to…" Miguel looked outside towards the fountain but just threw up his hands, "Right! I'll do the A/C. God knows I have nothing else to do."

Miguel followed the Guardian of Light out of the medic's wing, ranting and raving.

"I'm not even sure I can fix something like that, 'cause you know if I screw up you will mount my head on your wall."

As they passed down the hall, one of the doors opened and Oscar peered out.

"What's going on?"

"We're seeing if we can't fix up the air conditioner," Miguel turned the handle of the door that led to the next hall, ready to open it. He turned, "You guys could always peel a few layers. No? Well I will either fix it or break it."

He opened the door and immediately jumped back with a yelp. Clavis was standing directly on the other side, his hand outstretched as if he were reaching for the door handle.

"Holy-! You seriously need to stop doing that!"

Clavis said nothing and just passed the group in his slow graceful stride.

The three other men watched as he passed.

"Someone needs to get laid," Miguel murmured in a singsong voice, causing Julious to frown terribly.

"You shouldn't mention such things."

Repairing the A/C made Miguel nervous. He never repaired heavy machinery. Thankfully, Luva caught him, Julious, and Oscar on the way to the air conditioner.

"Here, I found a manual," he said holding up a thick book.

"Alright join the entourage."

The A/Cs were located in the utilities room at the far corner of the palace. Four of the five were humming smoothly. The fourth one, he figured was the one not working.

He unscrewed the panel and opened the air conditioning up. He moaned inwardly at the extent of the wires inside. This was going to be a long job. With a grunt, Miguel crawled into the machine and flipped on his back and stared at the running wires.

"Are you going to need the book?" Luva asked.

"Why don't you read it off to me."

"Are you sure? Maybe it would be better if you read it."

Miguel sighed, noting that he couldn't move very much, "Luva…I…I can't read."

Luva swallowed and gave the repairman a sympathetic stare, "Oh, I'm so sorry. If I had known—"

"I can read Luva. You've seen me read before. I won't be able to consult the book much in this cramped space."

Luva flipped through the pages to find a diagram and all the troubleshooting information, while Miguel searched the wires for anything out of place. Like he could tell.

The door opened and Olivie and Marcel entered. "So this is where you all are," Olivie said.

"We're waiting for the grease monkey to fix the air conditioning," Oscar grumbled.

They heard a grunt from under the air conditioning and Miguel pulled himself out form under it, "This is ridiculous. Do you all have nothing better to do?"

All five gave him silent looks.

"Right! I'll just finish then and try to entertain you all at the same time."

Miguel pulled himself back under A/C and continued his search.

"Do the wires all seem attached?" Luva asked.

"Unfortunately yes."

The wires were all fine, yes, but he found something curious with one of the fans. It was tilted and off center.

"Luva, what does it say about one of the fans being dislodged?"

Luva's eyes flicked through the pages to figure out any possible problems.

"The device has a mechanism that shuts the entire unit down when one of the fans is out of order."

"Then that should be it."

Miguel reached down for his wrench but he heard the door open once again and he groaned. This was just ridiculous. Seriously, what was going on?

"Come on in. God knows you all could use a laugh," he murmured.

Then the familiar angelic voice called, "Is everything alright here?"

The Guardians heard a thunk from inside the air conditioner. Miguel was stunned to hear Lumiale and sat straight up, hitting his head against the bolted metal. He groaned, rubbing his head. _That's going to really hurt for the rest of the day._

Oscar shook his head, "Your resourceful man servant is trying to fix the air conditioning."

Miguel didn't like the sarcasm in Oscar's voice. "Thank you, Oscar," he mumbled as he placed the wrench on one of the bolts and loosened it. Again he heard the door open.

Rosalia's authoritative voice spoke, "What are you doing?"

"Just enjoying the view," Miguel answered in a casual tone.

"Is this what all of you have been doing this whole time? Watching Miguel earn his keep?"

"More like seeing if he can earn his keep," Oscar groused eliciting a glare from Lumiale.

Miguel sighed, "You wouldn't understand, Oscar, it's called resourcefulness."

Oscar looked like the comment chafed and Olivie had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Before anyone could say anything Rosalia spoke, "What did I say about conduct with guardians?"

"He started it."

"Miguel!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he murmured continuing to readjust the dislodged fan. Finally he screwed the last bolt in. "There we are. It's finished. Let's test it out."

He crawled out of the unit and stood to his full height and reached around back to turn it on. They were rewarded by a smooth hum.

"It's all good."

"Good," Rosalia said, "Now everyone get back to work…or whatever."

The Guardians filed out of the utilities room, relieved that the air conditioning for the east wing was now up and running. Lumiale was the last one to leave and he turned and gave Miguel a charming smile that melted his heart. Miguel could only nod back. After the Guardian of Water left, Miguel pitched a silent fit, cursing silently.

That evening, Miguel finished all of his work and felt exhausted. He walked back to Lumiale's mansion in the cool darkness. He got close enough to hear the gentle harp of Lumiale. He stopped and gazed at the porch where he played, eyes closed, ears attuned to the strings.

Lumiale couldn't help but feel he was being watched. He stopped his playing and opened his eyes, seeing Miguel standing on the cobblestone pathway staring up at him, a strange look on his face. It was one of wonderment, but he didn't know why. Most notably, his servant looked tired.

"Have a rough day?" the blue haired man asked with a smile.

Miguel flinched, snapping out of his trance, blushing, "Uh, it was tough to get through, but nothing I couldn't handle."

He carefully approached the porch, but didn't get any closer.

"Did you get anything to eat?"

"Er, yes," Miguel answered shyly, subconsciously scratching the back of his head. An awkward silence ensued.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired."

"Well," Lumiale said softly, "Don't let me keep you up."

Miguel swallowed feeling that he should correct something. Deeply he wanted to talk to him more, maybe sit down with him. But what was it about Lumiale that made his palms sweat? Oh, right, it was the humidity.

"Oh, no," Miguel said, "Please don't mind me. I find your harp enchanting."

Enchanting? What the f-? Miguel sighed and waved, "Well, have a good night."

"Yes, you too."

Lumiale's harp echoed throughout the garden and Miguel walked the cobblestone path to his shack, and again he lied on his bed, a small smile on his face as the soft tune lulled him to sleep.

It was getting late and Lumiale was beginning to feel sleep grip him. His fingers stopped playing the strings and instead he let the natural quiet of the night be his music. He was glad someone could appreciate his music other than himself…or Clavis. It was fairly commonplace for Lumiale to visit his friend and play the harp all night, but recently Clavis had invited him less and less. It was a pain in Lumiale's heart at the prospect of drifting apart, but that wasn't likely. Maybe Clavis had grown tired of his tunes.

_I find your harp enchanting._

Lumiale couldn't pinpoint why, but when his servant said those words his fingers felt lighter as they touched the strings and his confidence slowly course back through him. Maybe he had a different audience now.

With a soft airy sigh, Lumiale picked up his harp, and retired inside his mansion for the night.

A/N: A filler chapter really, the next few chapters will be a little more involved while I try to sort out the ending.


	6. Part 6: Tasting the Ocean Mist

Disclaimer: This stuff belongs to Koei and Yura Kairi (always the talented artist who needs to do more work)

Part 6: Tasting the Ocean Mist

Work for Miguel diminished, at least around the Sanctuary, but he continued to maintain Lumiale's mansion and grounds. The routine was simple: he got up early, got the tools and appliances from the shed, and walked around the grounds, trimming hedges, mowing lawns, and watering plants. Occasionally, he would spot Lumiale on his porch, sometimes painting, sometimes reading or playing his harp. Miguel would catch himself staring at the beautiful young man and immediately feel embarrassed when he was caught. Lumiale would just give him a smile and wave.

In spite of the heat, Lumaile found himself staying outside, usually in the shade. Especially in the early morning, he would observe his servant as he worked. Maybe he was curious about how well he was doing maintaining the grounds in this heat. With the heat, Miguel's attire changed. His hair was pulled out of his eyes by a bandana covering his head, but more importantly he worked without his shirt. It was understandable. Lumiale was sweating in his clothes just sitting outside.

One day, Lumiale approached his orange tree, knowing that his servant was up in that tree. A bucket full of oranges was sitting at the base of the trunk, and as he got closer, he saw Miguel gripping the branches, his brown pant clad legs wrapped around the trunk and over a branch. He plucked the oranges with his hands and dropped them into the bucket. That's when he noticed him standing there.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile, "I hope you don't mind me picking these oranges before the heat fries them."

"I don't mind," Lumiale responded. Miguel just chuckled, "I loved oranges and tangerines when I sailed, probably how we never got scurvy."

"I see."

Miguel reached up and grabbed one, twisting it on its branch murmuring to himself, "This one looks like a good one."

He gently plucked it from its branch, and reached down, hanging from the tree, holding the orange out to Lumiale, a soft smile on his face.

Lumiale was taken aback by the gesture and didn't make any move, staring at the man.

"Trust me they're good."

Lumiale couldn't help but smile back and reached up and took the orange. The orange Miguel gave him indeed looked good. Perfectly orange and round. He turned the orange around, and noticed a small spot on the surface. It was the only imperfection, but only on the surface. The inside, Lumiale was sure, was just as good as any other orange.

He was too busy admiring the orange that he failed to notice Miguel climb down the tree. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Miguel picked up the bucket of oranges.

"It's hot out," Lumiale said stopping him. "Perhaps you should take a break inside."

As he said those words, the Water Guardian took in his servant's form. Inside his head, he was evaluating this man artistically. For years he had drawn from observation the various people in this Sanctuary and on few occasions asked Clavis to pose for him so he could practice his human anatomy and figure drawing. But the body he saw now, for some reason, fascinated him. It was the body of a man's man. Clavis' body was perfect, long, and toned all over, however Miguel was built thicker, and was defined in some areas, like his chest and forearms, but not in others, like his upper arms. He didn't have well defined abdominal muscles, but his abdomen was flat and solid showing that he did have strength there. Even the light sprinkling of chest hair on his chest was unique.

"Lumiale?" Miguel asked noticing the smaller man's blank stare.

Lumiale blinked, "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

He brought a hand to his forehead, embarrassed, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I want to ask you if you are willing to do something for me?"

Miguel just shrugged, "What is it?"

"Would it be okay for you to model for a couple of drawings?"

Of all the tasks Miguel was expecting it wasn't that, and it took all his self-restraint not to let his jaw drop. By the way Lumiale was looking at him, it was clear that he too was a little uncomfortable asking him.

"Do…do I have to strip naked?"

Immediately, Lumiale shook his head, "Not if it will make you uncomfortable."

Miguel wiped more sweat forming on his face, trying to decide an answer. Finally, he looked Lumiale in the eye, "Yeah, sure I'll do it. Er, when?"

"Not today. Maybe the day after tomorrow. You should take a break from working in this heat."

"Right."

0000000

Miguel never thought he'd see the day he would be modeling for one of the Guardians. It wasn't as intense as he thought it would be. He usually wore a pair of sweat shorts he recently bought but didn't bother with a shirt unless Lumiale asked him to. The first time, Miguel was so self-conscious.

"All right, I'm here. What do we do? How do I do it? Am I dressed okay?" he drew his words together so fast, that Lumiale had to struggle to understand him.

The blue haired man just laughed, "It's all right just relax."

He motioned to the middle of the room, "Can you stand for long periods of time?"

"By long, you mean…?"

"A minute or two."

"Yeah, sure."

"Then stand in the middle and just do as many poses you can think of."

Miguel nodded and then proceeded to pose. He was shaky the first couple of minutes, a little uneasy about being scrutinized by an artist. He knew his body wasn't perfect. Sure he could start to tone his body a bit, but when would he find time to?

"Do you have people do this often?" Miguel asked; his arms stretched high over his head, reaching high and almost losing his balance.

"Not really," Lumiale replied, "I've only had Clavis do this, but he wasn't as open to this idea as much as you are. Normally he's a very private person and that includes his body."

"Yeah," Miguel grunted, his arms starting to grow tired, "I can't imagine him being one who runs around here without a shirt on with no care in the world. But I'm not sure that I have the type of body like the Guardian of Dark. No, in fact I know so. Why lower the quality of your models to me?"

Lumiale set down his charcoal pencil, "Don't sell yourself short, Miguel. Your form is perfect."

Even as he was given motion to rest, his body felt hot, and his heart for some reason was light. Perfect was what he said, wasn't it? Miguel subconsciously rubbed his scruffy stubble and looked down at his flat bulged stomach that had no definition to it what so ever. Perfect in whose eyes? Normal, maybe, but not perfect.

"You can take a break for the rest of the day," Lumiale said cheerfully, closing the cover of his large, easel-sized, sketchpad.

000000

Although, Lumiale gave him leave to rest for a few days because of the heat, Miguel felt that he had to do something. Jasper did say that Luva always was looking for help in organizing books in the library and Miguel's arms were larger than the Guardian of Earth's so he could carry more books. Miguel always liked Luva. He was a cheerful, socially awkward man who loved to learn new things. Luva always tried out his Iberian language with Miguel. Miguel's Iberian was mostly slang and what Luva was learning was formal speech, but he humored the turban headed man.

Over at the Royal Art Institute, Randy, Miguel and Olivie were helping Lumiale move some paintings, one of the them was the finished portrait of Marcel and another of a lake at sunset.

Randy grunted, lifting the painting on the wall with Miguel since Olivie didn't want to break a nail.

"You have some new stuff here Lumiale," Olivie said glancing at the new paintings on the wall. Randy dusted off his hands and stepped back observing the painting, hoping it was even.

"Does it look good Lumiale?"

"It looks great, Randy. Thank you."

"Well look at this one Lumiale," the Guardian of Water heard Olivie call. Olivie was glancing a small inconspicuous charcoal sketch, framed along with some landscape and figure sketches of various guardians doing various things. The charcoal sketch was a portrait of a man staring off wistfully; his eyes squinted against a non-existent sun, his long messy mane blowing away from his face. Short soft strokes formed his stubble and stronger strokes formed his full lips that were gently parted, letting out air. The dark strokes that formed shadows, gave the face a grungy, grimy look but retained such beauty, an odd juxtaposition for Olivie who always had a set definition of beauty. But the homely, hard-etched face told stories and held life of a hard worker in a brief moment that the artist caught. It was beauty. Olivie smiled at the striking face, noticing who it was and knew that Lumiale drew him without the subject noticing.

"Ahhh, that's Miguel-"

Lumiale pressed his finger to his own lips and hushed the Guardian of Dream with a small smile. He nodded towards Miguel and Randy, who were getting ready to place the next painting up.

00000000

A few mornings later, Miguel resumed his work on Lumiale's grounds, mostly watering the plants that had nearly dried out in the sun. Normally, Miguel knew where Lumiale would be. But this morning, the kind Guardian was nowhere to be seen. He paused from his watering and looked around to see if Lumiale was wondering around, getting some morning fresh air like he always did before he was summoned to the palace to be around bickering and billowing Guardians. Miguel thanked the stars that he was working for the gentlest Guardian. He had heard that Julious gave Gandalf a temporary suspension because he was late in delivering papers in order to help a maid who passed out from the heat. Oscar nearly beat the guts out of Randy in one of their sparring matches. Luva had a light scratch on his cheek from when Zephel threw a piece of scrap metal at the door, not wanting to be disturbed. Even sweet little Marcel lashed out at Olivie in the Guardian of Dream's attempt to dress him up.

He had been surprised that Gloria was taking things so well. Serving to the varying tastes of Guardians in heat had to be a challenge. She of all people seemed to be the most put together, even making delicious dishes for the servants. It seemed that her dinners were the only things keeping the help together in this heat. Meanwhile, Miguel could only wonder where the Queen was in this. From what Rosalia implied, the Queen was usually very busy, but shouldn't violent and fighting Guardians take precedence? It was quickly becoming too much for even Rosalia to handle and she needed help.

Miguel let out breath and looked up when he noticed Marcel running up the road, a bouquet of flowers in his arms.

"Morning Miguel!" he called and Miguel was a little shocked to hear that Marcel remembered his name.

"Morning."

The young boy held out the flowers, "I found these in my garden and I thought Lumiale would like them."

"To be honest, I'm not sure he's home, but I'll find a place for them and let him know you dropped by."

"Oh, he hadn't arrived at breakfast yet so I assumed he was here," Marcel handed him the flowers, "But thanks for taking care of this for me."

"Yeah sure," he replied but his attention turned from the Guardian to Jasper who had just arrived.

"Miguel," he called holding out an envelope. "A messenger arrived with this."

Miguel looked down at the flowers in his hand and held them out to Jasper, who stared at him in mild confusion, "I like you as a friend, Miguel, but I…"

"No, genius, hold these while I open that damn letter!"

Jasper smiled as they traded off and Miguel read the note. It was from Carlos, inviting him for a night out with the rest of the crew at the usual place. The message also suggested that he bring someone. Why Carlos thought that was necessary, escaped him.

"A few friends want me to go out with them," Miguel answered Jasper's unanswered question. "You wanna come with?"

Jasper shrugged, "I would but I haven't seen the missus in over two weeks."

"Wait," Miguel paused, "You're married?"

"Yeah, about six months now."

"I see, and how old are you?"

"Older than you," Jasper smirked. "I'm sure you can find someone else to go with you. Master Randy likes to go into town."

"But I'm not going to risk being beheaded for exposing him to a bunch of rowdy sailors."

"They can't be that bad," Jasper said handing back the bouquet of flowers. "Anything would be a relief for these Guardians."

Jasper turned on his heel, leaving Miguel to wipe his brow and examining the flowers in his hand. He decided he would go alone even though he felt he needed to bring company.

A/N: A really weird ending but the next chapter will get things rolling finally. I swear on Clavis' crystal ball and Lumiale's harp. I'd have to now or else they'll smite me. (Good thing I didn't swear it on Julious' horse)


	7. Part 7: Amongst the Waves

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

Part 7: Amongst the Waves

He never thought he'd see the day where he'd be in front of _this _place. Miguel dreaded the moment he walked down the obscure stone path to the surprisingly beautiful and peaceful mansion. He was certain Clavis would have some sort of ivy covered, creaky, damp, haunted mansion. Darn stereotypes never pull through.

Of course, he was not by any means relaxed about this and he began to feel muscle spasms as reached up to ring the bell.

Amir answered the door, thank the Queen, and the attendant cocked his head.

"Well, this is a surprise. Are you looking for Clavis?"

"Yes and no," Miguel murmured as he scratched his head. "I'm looking for Lumiale and I have been told that he and your master have some weird type of relationship so I thought he'd be here."

"Sorry, man," Amir shook his head, "He's not here."

"Does Clavis know where he would be?"

The other man shrugged, "Probably, but Clavis is at the Royal Palace."

"Right, thanks," Miguel turned and descended the steps, but paused and turned back around. "What kind of relationship do they have exactly?"

Amir tilted his head and stared up in space for a moment before giving his answer.

"A little like a subtle, friendlier version of Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway in _The Devil Wears Prada._"

For some reason, that analogy wasn't quite clicking with Miguel and he did a double take as he descended the steps, "Is there a reason you were watching that particular film—you know what, nevermind. Have a good day."

Miguel walked away, muttering, "You and your movies."

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At the Royal Palace, several of the Guardians were dismissing themselves from breakfast and having light conversation in the main hall. Julious, Clavis, and Rosalia were talking about what to do with some of the drastic situations going on with the Guardians' tempers.

A sharp whistle down the hall caught their attention. Miguel marched down towards them calling, "I'm on a scavenger hunt and I need to find a black-haired, soulless, bottom-feeder."

He turned his head towards Clavis and smirked, "Oh hi, Clavis."

He was met with no response, but in the back Oscar and Zephel were snickering.

"Listen, since you have some sort of friendship off hours to my master, the details of which I will not need since frankly I am quite content the with the stereotype of you devouring children and puppies for sustenance, I do however would like to know where I could find my caring master."

Julious' eyes flicked over to Rosalia, shocked by the man's presumption and Clavis' jaw clenched as he glared down at the man. Normally, anyone would have fear and dread when it came to talking to the Guardian of Dark, but this guy was spewing cutting remarks like no tomorrow and he was much more fluid about it than Julious.

Luva spoke up, "Ah, he was by the creek. That's the last I saw him."

Miguel nodded, "Thank you Luva."

Lumiale's servant gave Clavis one last glare before marching off ranting, "Geez, Big Guy it's amazing you can put your underwear on in the morning. God!"

The sound of the front door closing signaled that the servant with balls large enough to confront the Guardians had left.

"To be honest, Clavis, I think he likes you," Rosalia laughed, patting the tall man's arm

Clavis just sighed.

000000

The creek was hard to find as it was buried deep in the woods, the only thing that pointed Miguel in the right direction was the faint sound of Lumiale's harp. He followed the sound until he heard the soft drizzle of the creek. If he were any other man who wasn't always in a hurry, he would have stopped to enjoy the dual sound of the harp and the creek, the plucks of the harp like drops in the creek.

As Miguel reached the creek he noticed a bench a few feet away from the edge and the blue clad figure sitting upon it, his back towards Miguel.

The scruffy man stepped closer and Lumiale turned his head, smiling, as usual.

"Miguel, you haven't been making trouble have you?"

Miguel's eyes shifted all over the forest, wondering if someone was watching him, before he responded sheepishly, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Lumiale stopped his playing and chuckled. "Is there something you need?"

"Er…well, two things actually," Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. "Firstly, Marcel stopped by and gave you a bouquet of flowers. I took them and placed in a vase in the foyer, if that's okay."

"That's wonderful thank you."

"The other thing, well…" he swallowed feeling his heart pound, "I got a message this morning from some of my…old shipmates and they would like hang out for a little while in town. Is it alright if I go tonight?"

Lumiale raised his eyebrows and gave him the obvious answer, "Of course you can. I'm not going to hold you here."

Miguel gave a subtle bob of his head in understanding and thanks, "Thank you very much."

He was ready to turn and leave and he took a few steps before he paused. The idea slowly crept in and he was wondering why oh why didn't he just shut and leave.

"Er…" he murmured softly, turning back to face the blue-haired harpist. "Would-would you like to come with? I mean, if you want to. If you have something else to do or you guys aren't allowed to go out, I understand…"

Lumiale's mouth was parted slightly and his eyes were wide, surprised at the invitation. He hadn't been to the outside world in ages. It was such a great opportunity that it was hard to turn down, not that he wanted to turn it down anyway. He had to get out and away from the toiling state of the Guardians for a little while before he too would succumb to flaring tempers

"Sure," Lumiale managed to say, "Sure of course. I had planned to visit Clavis tonight, but I can do that tomorrow night."

"S-so you'll come with?" Miguel stuttered taken aback that he would accept.

"Of course."

Miguel gave his famous broad smile.

00000000

The afternoon was slowly coming to a close and it was almost time for Miguel to meet Lumiale at the gate. He felt sick as he was getting ready. He didn't know what it was but he was treating this thing as a date. No, Lumiale was a guy. A really good looking guy, but a guy just the same. Then why was Miguel feeling this way?

Miguel combed away his bangs and adjusted the jacket he wore over a tight fitting dark tee.

He made his way to the gate and immediately found Lumiale waiting by the gate that divided the Sanctuary from the rest of the world. Miguel was taken by surprise. Instead of his usual blue and white robes, he was wearing casual attire; a blue button-up shirt and white slacks.

"Wow," Miguel said low in his throat. Lumiale gave him a curious look, concerned with the taller man's expression. Miguel shook his head, "I'm sorry, I just haven't seen a guardian in casual attire before."

"Well, we do catch attention when we go into town with our robes," Lumiale laughed.

"Ha, trust me I think you'll catch attention even without your robes."

The Guardian shrugged, but gave a jerk of his head addressing Miguel's attire.

"You look nice though, Miguel."

Miguel tugged on the jacket he wore, "What these? These aren't mine. I had to borrow these from Gandalf since he's the only one aside from Oscar who has clothes that fit me right. I promise I'll invest in some better clothes as soon as I have the money."

Miguel's answer was honest; a characteristic Lumiale took frequent notice of.

"Shall we go?" Lumiale said gesturing towards the gates. Miguel nodded, "After you, sir."

The town was busy, but not too crowded. The people going out for the night were walking unhurriedly and casually across the cobblestones of the road and the wooden planks of the pier. Even the sea looked calm and the heat didn't seem so overbearing. The sun hadn't set yet and it wouldn't for a while, but it's descent over the sky brought out a lovely orange hue.

Lumiale and Miguel stopped at a restaurant and pub and immediately they could hear the happy tones of people conversing. The barkeep in the back corner took notice of them and waved.

"Head on back. They're already there," he called, pointing to the door leading to the veranda. Miguel was a little shocked that the bar tender knew him by face, but proceeded back, praying that his friends were making fools of themselves yet.

The veranda was a lovely place to sit and a few parties were at their tables eating and drinking, enjoying the great view of the sea. A small canopy covered the area and small balls of light on strings illuminated the place. A sharp whistle distracted Lumiale.

"Oi! Hombre! Por aquí! (Hey, dude, over here)" a tan-skinned man called, waving Miguel over.

Miguel waved back and reached the table.

"Yeesh! It took you a while," Martín growled lightly, but stopped when he noticed a stranger next to Miguel. He smirked, "Well now, who did you bring here?"

Carlos scoffed and whacked Martín in the shoulder, "Idiota! Show some respect. He is Master Lumiale. The Guardian of Water."

Paolo choked on his drink, and the others at the table got quiet. Miguel could've slapped himself on the head. Great, now it was awkward.

Carlos laughed and lifted his drink, "Welcome to the party, Master Lumiale."

The others laughed and let loose and Miguel let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Carlos shook Lumiale's hand, and allowed him to take his seat. Carlos moved over two seats.

"I hadn't seen you in while Carlos. It's great to see you're doing well."

"Well, I am versatile, sir," Carlos grinned as he snapped his fingers at Miguel who was still standing. "Sit here, man! We're ready to start without you."

"Start what exactly?" Miguel asked as he took his seat between Lumiale and Carlos. "Another game of slap and tickle?"

Carlos laughed, "You still haven't lost your wit, amigo. No, some of us brought friends from work, like yourself, and we thought a little introduction is in order."

"Only we didn't have to guts to invite our bosses," Martín said.

Carlos pointed to each of the new guys, "Miguel, Lumiale, this is Gregg, Ronaldo, and Bradley. Gregg is the manager of the fishery, Ronaldo helps design ships, and Bradley is from the local fire department. Guys, this is Miguel, our first mate when we were sailing."

The new guys said their welcomes and Gregg reached over and shook his hand. The waiter arrived at the table, "Can I get something for you two gentlemen?"

"A light ale for me please," Miguel said and Carlos gave him a strange look. Even though Miguel didn't usually drink, he usually drank harder stuff like dark beer or rum.

"Do you have iced tea?" Lumiale asked.

The waiter, who was particularly jovial, answered, "We sure do sir."

The waiter left and Miguel glanced around the table, "Hey… where's the Captain?"

"He's the early shift tomorrow, so he thought he'd get some sleep in," Martín responded.

"Oh…that sucks."

"Yes, well, thankfully he and the rest of are doing fine for now. The question is—and Master Lumiale, please feel free to respond to this question as well—who is your work in the Royal Sanctuary? You haven't been causing trouble have you?"

"Is there some sign over my head that says 'troublemaker' or something? You're the second one to say that to me today."

"Who else said it?"

Miguel pointed to Lumiale.

"I knew he would be a little rough for the environment there," Carlos laughed leaning over and smiling at Lumiale.

"Actually, he's been very productive. He's a hard worker and very helpful."

Miguel felt his chest swell with pride, but kept it quiet, trying his best to hide the fact that his face was flushing red.

Carlos chuckled, "You wouldn't know it, but even though Miguel was one heck of a first mate he wasn't adverse to being a goof off. Remember, Paolo? While Paolo was sleeping below deck, Miguel over here put him on a wooden raft and lowered him off the ship and into the water. Poor kid woke up a good swim away from the ship."

Paolo suddenly remembered the incident and laughed.

Miguel crossed his arms, "Aww, come on. He was due for night duty and we got him back on board. Anyway Carlos, trying to get you to steer the right way was no cake walk."

Carlos laughed and held his hands out ward, his thumbs and index fingers out forming L's.

"I couldn't shout out directional orders with this guy," Miguel continued. "Half the time I had to get his attention and point left or right."

Lumiale smiled behind his hand.

The evening went by very fast. Friendly conversation rolled out couple with loud jokes. Lumiale got to know Carlos and the rest of Miguel's former shipmates and their friends. Their talks got a few in the other tables involved as they would laugh at some of their jokes. After a few rounds of drinks, some of the men decided to turn in before it got too late.

Carlos waved the waiter over, "Alright, what's the damage?"

"No need, sir," the waiter said, "It's on the house."

"Oh, well, thank the barkeep and yourself."

Miguel licked his lips and leaned over, "Psst!"

The waiter turned back around, "Yes sir?"

Miguel reached into his pocket and whispered, "It's not much but…" He placed a few coins in the waiter's hand; "…here's a little something for yourself."

The waiter smiled broadly, pocketing the coins, "Much appreciated, sir. You have yourself a nice night."

Miguel turned his face towards Lumiale who was softly staring at him.

"Weren't you saving that?"

The former sailor shrugged, "He needs it more than me."

Carlos stood and stretched, "Well, it's almost dark. I'd better get back. It was really nice to see you again. Take care of yourselves."

"We should probably be heading back too," Miguel said, standing. Lumiale nodded and they both left the veranda.

They walked by the pier, watching the sun slowly disappear beneath horizon of the reflective sea.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," Miguel said.

Lumiale smiled, "I did very much. It's so good to get out of the Sanctuary every once in a while."

"I was just worried that those guys wouldn't be the type for someone like you to hang out with."

"Miguel," Lumiale said softly and it made the hairs on the back of Miguel's neck stand up, "I'm used to different personalities. Take the Guardians for example. Each one of us has our own tastes and ways of doing things. I believe that's what makes us so functionally dynamic. It just wouldn't be the same if we were all high-mannered disciplinarians."

"Hrm, I guess I never thought of it that way…" Miguel's voice faded and Lumiale noticed that he had stopped in his tracks.

"Miguel?"

The man was staring out at sea through the empty void of where a ship would be. His expression was pained and lost even as the gentle breeze from the sea brushed up his bangs. It was like he was looking at a childhood home he hadn't seen in a long time. It was something unrecognizable yet familiar. There, out at sea was where he had spent most of his time. He hadn't been grounded for a long time, yet the aged nostalgic feeling was overwhelming as he gazed at the sea, standing in the last spot his ship was ever anchored.

Lumiale let him have a few seconds to himself, feeling that he needed it after he just spent the evening with his former shipmates, reminiscing about the not too distant past.

"Everything alright?" Lumiale finally said and Miguel shook himself out of his reverie.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry."

000000

It was dark by the time the reached the gates of the sanctuary and the Guardian and his servant walked down the stone walkway back to the mansion.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Miguel said in a low voice. "It gave me a better reason to go, and I'm glad I did."

"It's still painful, huh?" Lumiale said before even referring to the fact that he was separated from his past life.

"Yeah," Miguel gave a wry smile, "Huh?"

Miguel thought he felt something wet splash onto nose. He looked up. The sky was dark and the stars were gone. He felt more drops. Before he could say anything the sky opened up and the dull roll of thunder growled. It was raining hard.

"I don't believe it!" Miguel said with a laugh over the roar of the rain. Lumiale looked up in amused disbelief holding out his hand catching the many drops.

Miguel took off his jacket and placed it over Lumiale's shoulders and head, shielding him from the rain.

"We should get you back as soon as possible," Miguel called, water spraying with ever movement of his mouth as the water drizzled down his lips. They ran back to the mansion and raced up the steps to the porch. Once underneath the porch roof and dry from the rain they turned and watched the rain fall. Such a beautiful sight.

"Miguel you should come inside and get warmed up. You're drenched," Lumiale suggested but the man just beamed at him and shook his head.

"You should go in, sir. I wish I had covered you up sooner."

Lumiale didn't respond, but looked at the man. He was smiling staring at the rain in wonderment. Miguel's famous smile was broad, causing his laugh lines to deepen cutting dark lines into his dark scruff. What used to be a warm, kind smile seemed now so…childlike.

"I wish I could see your smile more often," Lumiale said to himself.

"What?" Miguel turned, not catching what the Guardian had said.

"Nothing."

"I can't believe it's finally raining," Miguel whispered and glanced back at Lumiale. "Jeez, even drenched to the bone, your hair is still flawless. I envy that."

Miguel emphasized his point by brushing his wet bangs back but he still looked like a wet shaggy dog.

Lumiale laughed and reached up and brushed his fingers through Miguel's thick locks, "I happen to like the thickness of it. It's a very unique hair style."

Miguel swallowed as he felt Lumiale's delicate fingers brush against his scalp. He looked into Lumiale's blue eyes keeping as still as possible, afraid to move.

He only moved when the Guardian tilted Miguel's head down, and then their lips met in a gentle, warm kiss.

A/N: Moving into some shonen-ai business which I probably should've warned about sooner if I felt that it didn't give anything away. The title of this chapter comes from a Pearl Jam song. Please review.


	8. Part 8: Ice in the River

Disclaimer: Don't own this.

Part 8: Ice in the River

Lumiale awoke the next morning feeling a strange coolness in his room. He glanced outside the window seeing that the morning was still gray, rain pattering the window. He smiled to himself at the sweet relief. This marked the end of the of the heatwave prison the Sanctuary was in. He turned in his bed finding a man lying next to him on his back, his hair tousled and snoring. Lumiale smiled remembering last night and this had all started with a kiss.

The kiss they shared was soft, Miguel's scent washing all over him. He tasted of usual male musk, earthy and subtle, combined with a delightful mixture of fresh rain. Miguel, with his stronger body, was surprisingly sweet and gentle, his touches just as delicate as Lumiale's, showing the kindness in his heart. A gentle giant, indeed.

Lumiale rolled over on his bare back, still staring at his sleeping partner. Miguel was rousing as his snoring stopped and his Adam's apple was bobbing, trying to wet his dry throat. He sniffed a little and his eyes opened. Still lying down, he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Glancing over at Lumiale he gave a shy smile, "'Morning…"

"Good morning," Lumiale replied back smiling. There was a pause as Miguel breathed out.

"I can honestly say I never thought I'd find myself in this position with a man," he whispered. Silence filled the room and Miguel groaned turning his gaze away from the Guardian, "I just made things awkward, didn't I."

Lumiale chuckled, "It's fine, I never thought so either."

"Good we're on the same boat. Now I don't feel so self conscious."

Miguel rolled out of bed and quickly got his pants on. He bent down to pick up his shirt and turned to the smaller man in the bed, his hands clutching the fabric tight. Miguel returned to his nervous, shy state.

"Er, thank you," he managed in unsure tones, "For last night…I mean, hanging out…not the…"

Lumaile held up his hand, "I understand. Relax."

The whole time Miguel kept his head bowed, not meeting the blue-haired man's gaze. Lumiale wished Miguel would look at him, so he'd know if he thought last night was mistake. What Lumiale didn't realize is the turmoil Miguel was having. Their differences in work around the Sanctuary were on Miguel's mind. He was a servant and Lumiale was the Guardian of Water.

He put on the shirt,"I was wondering if…we could do that again sometime…well, not necessarily _that…_but…I mean…"

"Miguel," Lumiale interrupted and the man looked up, stopping his rambling, "I would love to talk to you again. But tonight is no good. I have to go to Clavis'."

"Ahh," Miguel managed a smirk, despite feeling a little jealous. "What…kind of friendship do you guys have anyway? You two seem to be complete opposites."

"Companionship is the best I can describe it."

"Sure," Miguel picked up the jacket he wore last night, "I've got to go check to see if your roof's still on and return these clothes to Gandalf. Maybe, just maybe, I'll go dance in the rain."

"Take the day to relax, Miguel. You've earned it with all the work you have done in the heat."

Miguel responded with a soft smile.

As he went throughout the day, Miguel couldn't the abject confusion dwelling in his heart. If anyone told him that he would end up sleeping with a Guardian he would've thrown them overboard. But now that he had slept with a man-a beautiful, kind, man- he felt that all he thought of himself was a lie. During his days at seas, he flirted and kissed women on ports. Was he just kidding himself? He shook his head. No, he still liked women, and he seriously doubted he would like any other man, other than Lumiale. But what was it about _that_ man that made it so different. Was it his beauty? His kindness? The way he treated him? It was most likely a combination of those things.

He walked into the kitchens for a drink and spotted Jasper on the kitchen table drinking hot chocolate. He grabbed a mug for himself.

"So, how was your date last night?" Jasper said.

Miguel spat out his chocolate. The hotness caused him to cough and wipe his mouth vigorously.

"Relax," Jasper laughed, "It was only a joke. Sally saw you and Lumiale leave the Sanctuary. Apparently you guys were in very spiffy outfits."

"I was visiting some old friends and since you weren't available, I thought I'd ask Lumiale to go with me. And he agreed, obviously."

Light rolling thunder clapped outside and Jasper turned his attention to the rain. He smiled at the falling droplets of water like they were jewels.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I cherished the rain as much as I do now," Miguel said looking out the window.

Jasper scoffed, "Enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow begins the scorch fest again. At least it's supposed to. Well, this gives us a little reprieve."

Miguel groaned. _What is with the weather here?_

"Jasper, you're married right?"

It was an obvious question and Jasper had to pause, not sure if he heard right, "Uh, yeah, I'm married. I told you that, right?"

"Yeah, it's just…I'm looking for advice and you may not be the one I'm looking for."

Jasper sighed and rested his elbow on the windowsill, leaning on it as he turned to face his colleague, "Well…what is it?"

"Have you ever had a moment when you think you made your relationship awkward?"

There was a pause as Jasper's eyebrows rose. Certainly he wasn't expecting this.

"That's…" Jasper paused trying not to pry too much on what Miguel asked him the question. Miguel was right, he might not be the right guy to answer this question.

"The best thing I can say is to just be open. Make her know that although it was awkward, you are still interested in her."

Jasper finished with a shrug as if his two-cents were something he just came up with. No matter how spontaneous the advice was, Miguel thought that it made sense. He would give it a try. _Miguel, act cool._

"Wow…that was unexpectedly useful," Miguel responded, he smirked at his peer, "Thanks."

Jasper gave a mild salute, with his mug still in hand, "Well, cheers. And good luck."

Rain continued on throughout the day. The storm was intense but nice and refreshing. The younger guardians started playing out in the rain, not caring that they would be soaked to the bone by the end of the day. Later, the storm opened up tenfold and in a solitary mansion the only sound that broke the hard sound of rain crashing into the windows was the gentle tones of a harp.

Lumiale sat in his usual chair a distance away from his friend, Clavis, who was lounging in his chair behind his desk. The Guardian of Dark had his eyes closed, his head propped up by his hand resting on the desk. He wasn't sleeping, Lumiale knew that, but trying to escape from something by listening to the music. Lumiale, who usually found Clavis' presence and comfort relaxing, wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings. He was still focused of what transpired the night before with Miguel.

Clavis's eyes slowly opened, the foreboding eyes fixated on his companion.

"Your tone is more upbeat than usual," his deep voice rumbled like the thunder outside.

Lumiale blinked and stopped his playing, "Is it? I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed."

"You do this when you are in a particularly good mood," Clavis folded his hands together, voice still dark. Lumiale swallowed. Clavis was upset that Lumiale broke his restful peace.

"It probably has something to do with your evening last night, right?"

Lumiale didn't answer but he looked away. He was so painfully transparent to Clavis. Lumiale knew he shouldn't say anything else, but he felt he had to defend his actions.

"I had a good time out with a good friend."

"Your servant…" Clavis pointed out

Lumaile was taken aback with the tone. Clavis, coming from a lower social order, rarely thought himself above others. But he showed such spite towards Lumiale's assisstant.

"He's still human. And a bright one in fact."

Clavis straightened becoming increasingly agitated, "My advise to you is to not get too close to him…"

"What does this matter to you? Are you just saying all this because you two don't get along," Lumiale tried to stay calm, but he realized he was failing badly. His long-time friend was angry. When Clavis was angry, it wasn't like Julious getting red-faced and veins bulging. No, when Clavis got angry, which was rare, ice flooded through your veins as the Guardian's jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

Clavis stood, hands resting on his desk as he stared his friend down.

"He's a merchant sailor right? His ship was destroyed and now he works here. What do you think will happen, Lumiale, when he and his associates get enough money to pay for another ship?"

Lumiale didn't answer, but kept his attention on his friend. Strangely, his voice held more emotion than usual.

"What will happen, if you get into a too close of a friendship, is that he leave and you will remain here, your heart broken. That is why you should keep your distance."

Lumaile's brow furrowed, his mouth open in moderate shock at Clavis' outburst. Something must've triggered this...but what?

"Clavis…where is this coming from?"

Clavis, who was in obvious emotional distress, took a few deep breaths. He had to get away from Lumaile, lest he say or do something he would regret. Clavis shook his head, "Nothing…I have to go."

"What?" Lumaile stood, his harp still in hand. Go? What was Clavis talking about? Clavis walked around his desk and left his office.

"Where are you going?" Lumiale called. The silent man didn't answer as he went of his mansion into the monstrous storm.

0000000

Miguel was in his shack, shielding himself from the rain, when he spotted Lumaile running through the rain to his mansion. That was odd. He thought Lumiale would be at Clavis' for most of the night. Why would he walk back in this storm so soon? Wanting to check on him, Miguel left his shack and ran through the rain, sprinting up the steps to the mansion. He pounded on the door, hoping it was loud enough for Lumiale to hear him over the roar.

Almost immediately, the door opened. Lumiale had a towel over his hair, drying it out.

"Miguel," he looked a little stunned but beckoned him in, "Get inside quick before you get a chill."

Miguel obeyed and closed the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head, "I just thought you returned a little early. I wanted to see if you were okay. I don't mean to pry."

Lumiale didn't say anything but draped the towel over Miguel's head. With a small smile, he started scrubbing his head dry.

"Come with me. I'll get you a dry robe for you to change into."

Miguel followed Lumiale into his room and he headed straight to the wardrobe. Lumiale pulled out a dark blue bathrobe and passed it to him. Miguel found the nearest bathroom and changed quickly. He stripped down and dried himself. When Miguel opened the door he made a yelp of surprise. Lumiale, still facing the wardrobe, didn't have a shirt on. Instead, he wore a towel around his waist, using another to dry his fair smooth skin.

Lumaile jumped when he heard Miguel yelp. The brown haired man braced himself on the doorway, as if he stumbled.

"What?" Lumiale asked, concerned that Miguel was hurt.

Miguel blinked, "N-nothing. I was just…taken by surprise."

"By what?"

"A rat," Miguel lied without missing a beat and smiled and shrugged, drawing the robe around him tighter. Lumiale passed him and entered the bathroom, "I'll be out in a second."

As Lumiale was in the bathroom, Miguel's mind chanted, _Act cool…act cool._ No, Miguel knew he was not acting cool. He could practically feel the tension brewing._ Screw it._ It was easier when he was not facing him.

"Lumiale," Miguel called through the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

"I apologize…if I…have made you uncomfortable. I'm not used to…this type of relationship. If it is a relationship. Even so, I'm not sure…how to go about this whole thing."

There was silence, and Miguel banged the back of his head against the doorframe. He dropped the ball. He was a failure to all relationships-romantic or not. Why the hell did he have to open his goddamn mouth? Lumiale was probably in that bathroom wondering what the hell he saw in him. The door opened. Lumiale appeared tying the belt of his light blue sleeping robes, a perplexed look on his face.

"Is that what you're so concerned about? How to have a relationship with another man?"

Miguel didn't respond but his facial expression told it all. He was feeling a little guilt.

Lumiale's voice was strained, "I'm a Guardian. The only relationships I have ever had were mostly with men but they weren't romantic. I wasn't even aware of my sexuality until I met you. If there is anyone making this awkward it's me…"

Miguel rested his large hand on the Guardian's shoulder, stopping him from saying anything. Lumiale reeled back from his own rant, shocked to realize how upset he really was.

"Then let's wing it," Miguel said as he dropped his hand. Lumiale smiled, finally, and gave the man a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Their attention turned outside when they heard pounding on the windows.

"Hail?"

Miguel groaned, "I'll fixing roofs and windows for a month." He stopped when he saw a worried look on Lumaile's face. "What's wrong?"

"Clavis wandered out of his mansion. I hope he's back safely."

"I'm not going to ask details," Miguel responded flatly. He wrapped his arm around Lumiale's shoulders, "I'm sure he's fine though."

000000

Clavis approached the large white mansion and pounded on the door. Hail started dropping and he didn't want stay outside more than he had to. The door opened, revealing Rosalia on the other side in her night negligee. She seemed shocked to see him.

"Clavis? You're early."

"Lumiale and I…had a fight," he admitted.

"Well, get in here. It's dangerous being out in the hail," she let the Guardian of Dark inside.

"So you and Lumiale had a fight huh? I never thought that was possible. Are you sure you still want to do this? We don't have to. We can take a rain check…so to speak."

The tall dark man shook his head, "No, I'm here. We might as well."

Rosalia led the man down the hall, talking nonchalantly, "You know, unless the hail lets up you can sleep in one of the spare bedrooms here."

She turned and led him into a large bedroom, with sparse and quaint furnishings and a large canopied bed in the center. Rosalia strode to her bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out something small and tossed it to Clavis, before stretching out on her bed. Clavis caught the object and began shedding his robes facing away from the Queen's Aide.

"I'm curious," Rosalia said propping herself up on her elbow, "What was the fight about? If you don't mind me asking."

Clavis wasn't really one to share his problems but was Rosalia's job to make sure relations between Guardians ran smoothly.

He shrugged, folding his robes and set them on a nearby chair, "It was more of an argument."

"About what?"

"It's really something I should deal with myself."

"Well, until you get over here, it's my problem," she scolded as she patted the bed softly. Clavis obeyed and approached the bed discarding the remainder of his clothing…

0000000

More than an hour later, Clavis sat on the edge of the bed, buckling up his robes. Rosalia, her hair tousled, remained on her back, catching her breath.

"You were a little more rough than usual. Not that I'm complaining. Are you still worried about Lumiale or is there something else on your mind?"

"It's nothing, I needed to let off some steam."

Rosalia gave a light laugh, "Well, you're the only Guardian who can let off steam like _that._ Lucky you."

Clavis rubbed the back of his head, "I think it's safe for me to go home."

"Are you sure?" Rosalia asked. Clavis' silence was enough for an answer, but she stopped him, "Before you go, the Queen wants to meet with you in a few days sooo…"

She reached over and gave him a playful pat on the back, "...limber up, big fella."

_Why is everyone calling me that?_ Clavis thought with a sigh as he stood and quietly Rosalia's room.

A/N: You hear that? That sound? It's the sound of all of you going "What the f#$!" Yeah! Got your attention didn't I. You will get a better picture later, when I am done picking on Lumiale and Miguel. Please Review.


	9. Part 9:Wave Over Wave

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.

Part 9: Wave Over Wave

The sun's rays flowed through the window of Lumiale's bedroom, hitting Miguel's eyelids. With a groan, Miguel raised his head, eyes blinking against the intensity of the sun. Soft breathing coming from under him caught his attention. Lumiale was laying face up, still sleeping. Somehow, Miguel wasn't sure exactly how, he had ended up on top of Lumiale. They were both wearing their robes, so he prayed they didn't do anything else but sleep last night. Miguel always had a hard time remembering the night before right after he woke up. It took a few hours for everything to sink in.

Now, the skins of their chests were touching, clearly this was a compromising position. As quietly as possible, he moved off of the gentle Guardian. He wasn't successful as Lumiale stirred awake. The first thing Lumiale saw was Miguel's confused and panicked face.

"Please tell me we didn't do it," Miguel said. "I promised myself I wouldn't do anything compulsory."

Lumiale playfully patted Miguel's chest, "No, we were so tired we pretty much collapsed."

"Ah," Miguel said as he removed himself from Lumiale's person.

Lumiale turned his gaze to the window, disappointment on his face, "The rain is gone."

Miguel nodded, "And with it comes more heat."

Lumiale's assistant stared at the ceiling, "I wonder how much damage the hail did."

"Let's hope not much," Lumiale stood, pulling his robe closed, feeling modest. As Miguel scratched the back of his head, eyes turned away, Lumiale smiled at his friend, "Thank you for checking on me last night."

Miguel seemed surprised and he looked up. Seeing the slight tinge of pink in the water guardian's cheeks was just too...cute. He reached over and rested his hand on the small shoulder, "What are friends for, right?"

There was that damn smile again. That laughing smile that always caused Lumiale's heart to flutter. Friends. Of course. He couldn't help but worry about his and Clavis' deteriorating friendship. His worries weren't of himself, of course. Lumiale liked to consider himself a friend of everyone in the Sanctuary, with the exception of Oscar. But Clavis...Who else did he have? Randy, maybe. Luva, possibly. Zephel would be a stretch, but there was no one Lumiale could think of that Clavis would be willing to get close to. Heck, Clavis was hardly close to Lumiale, but they both had a good enough understanding of each other to be considered good friends. Now…all that friendship and companionship was in jeopardy.

"Hey," Lumiale snapped out of it when he heard a soft voice. Miguel was giving him a concerned look, "Everything alright?"

"Y-yes, I just spaced-out. Forgive me."

Miguel scoffed light-heartedly, "You are a horrible liar, but if you don't want to tell me the details you don't have to."

Lumiale placed a gentle hand on Miguel's. Emboldened, the former sailor swallowed and asked, "W-would it be alright if I-I kissed you?"

Blinking twice, Lumiale did a double take, not quite understanding how Miguel became so forth coming. Since Lumiale was technically Miguel's superior, it was he who usually initiated intimate contact…strictly out of protocol (even if it wasn't a protocol situation). Lumiale was now hopeful that this relationship was turning mutual and equal.

He gripped Miguel's hand, running his thumb gently over the strong knuckles, and gave him permission with a nod.

There was no hesitation, but Miguel wasn't rushed. He bent over and softly pressed his lips to Lumiale's cheek. He ended the soft kiss in an embrace, keeping Lumiale close in a secure hug. Lumiale could feel Miguel's stubble resting against his flawless skin, and the man's arms wrapped securely around him, trying to take his worries away. Lucky for Lumaile, Miguel succeeded in taking away all those troublesome thoughts.

Miguel changed back to his usual clothing, and followed Lumiale into the main parlor for a drink before he was off doing…whatever. Lumaile had taken some of the oranges Miguel picked days ago and made some fresh orange juice.

"Thanks," Miguel smiled taking a glass, "I'll probably head up to the roof and inspect if there's any major damage from the hail. Since the roof didn't cave in, I don't think I'll have much—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Without missing a beat, Miguel dove behind the couch as if he was being shot at, creating a loud thud. Lumaile rolled his eyes and smiled at the over-exaggeration. He answered the door, and Olivie, without make-up, was on the other side.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Lumiale, but this is urgent. My roof has been destroyed by the hailstorm and I need assistance from Miguel, but he wasn't in his shack. Do you know where he is?"

Lumiale bit his lip for a mere second, but Olivie took notice of it.

"I haven't seen him around. But I will give him the message."

Olivie looked skeptical, "There's something going on isn't there. I thought I heard a man's voice…"

"I'm sure you're mistaken," Lumiale smiled, trying to play it off.

Olivie's thin eyebrow arched up. "Uh, huh, then why are you in a robe? You usually don't sleep this late."

Lumiale coughed, buying a little time to come up with something.

"I was up all night with Clavis. Because of the hail, I didn't get back until late."

It was a believable excuse, and it looked like Olivie bought it.

"Alright, give Miguel my message," he turned and left giving a casual wave.

"Will do!" Lumiale called back, returning the wave. Once he was sure Olivie was a safe distance away, he shut the door, pressing his back to it, letting out a sigh. Miguel, assuming it was safe, popped up from behind the couch.

"You're lucky Clavis likes you, otherwise no one would believe that story," he said.

"Yeah…" Lumiale said distantly.

"And can you believe Olivie? What because I'm Iberian, I automatically know how fix roofs. What a horrible stereotype!"

Lumiale smiled and shook his head, striding up to his friend and patted him on the shoulder, "I don't think he meant it that way. You were about to inspect my roof."

"Yeah," Miguel groaned, "but you're different…"

"How so?"

"For one thing, you confuse me sexually without making me uncomfortable. When I go to Olivie's I always get jumped, and not in the good way. I don't think he's attracted to me, he just knows it bothers me. He doesn't do that to Julious by any chance, does he? If so I would love to get a videotape of that and label it 'Sexual Harassment of Julious' and send it to Gandalf. He could use a laugh."

Lumiale chuckled, "You're confusing Olivie with Oscar."

"True," Miguel nodded, sitting down on the couch, "You know, for someone who flirts and harasses women, he sure isn't successful at winning their charms in the long-run."

Lumiale sighed, "That's because once they get to know him, they realize he lacks a certain subtlety that makes females more content and comfortable around him."

Miguel thought about it. Well, he himself was usually successful with women, but he certainly didn't see them as candy to try out the many different flavors like Oscar does. Now, Miguel could laugh at himself, he was with a man, but with Lumiale he found content and gentleness that he needed.

With a soft sigh, Miguel shrugged and headed to the front door, "Well, I'd better work on the drag queen's roof."

"Alright, be careful," Lumiale saw him off with a wave.

* * *

Over the next few days, Miguel worked with the contractors in repairing Olivie's shattered roof. The heat burned their skins and Miguel as well as several of the contractors were forced to take off their shirts, but that did little to quell the heat.

"Hey! Turn the radio up. I love Hootie!" Miguel called to one of the contractors laying shingles. The radio was right beside him and the man laughed and turned the radio up.

As the music was playing Miguel, with the help of Zephel (surprisingly), was nailing some shingles on the roof. Miguel began to get worried. He was feeling light-headed and drowsy, even though he should be wide-awake.

"Hey! You okay?"

Miguel looked over to the young mechanic, "Y-yeah… Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Me? Sure, it gives me something to do. Luva says it will be a good way to vent my energy," Zephel eyed Lumiale's servant. The boy turned to recline on his back, pausing from his work," I haven't talked much to Lumiale lately. How is he?"

Miguel flinched, nervous that somehow Zephel knew about their relationship. The boy looked casual, like he had no clue, but still…

"He is the usual, I guess."

"What do you do for him?"

Miguel swallowed, "Oh, a few things. Trimming hedges, mowing lawns, the occasional fondling-Framing! I mean framing his canvases. I cut and build the frames and he stretches the canvas."

Zephel narrowed his eyes at the man. Why was he acting nervous? Could it be because of the heat?

"Speaking of which, have you inspected his roof yet?"

Miguel nodded, "Yeah I did, there's not much damage to his roof, thank god. Anyway, I should start working on the other side of the roof."

Miguel gathered his things and clipped on his tool belt and began to climb up to the other side.

"Your screwdriver," Zephel called.

"I did not!" Miguel responded defensively, mistaking what he had heard. Zephel raised an eyebrow and held out a screwdriver, "You forgot your screwdriver."

"Oh, right…"

* * *

With a heavy breath, Lumiale lightly knocked on the large mahogany doors.

"Clavis?" he called through the doors, hoping his friend was on the other side. It was silent, but that was how the Guardian of Darkness usually liked it.

"I'm coming in, pardon the intrusion," Lumaile said politely, opening the doors.

Just as Lumiale expected, Clavis was at his desk, resting his head on his propped up hand, eyes on his crystal ball. However, for the life of Lumaile, he had never seen his friend so haggard, tired, and disturbed. It looked like he hadn't slept the whole week. Dark circles were under his bloodshot eyes and he had forgotten to shave and his stubble stood out against his pale skin. Mostly, Guardians kept themselves clean, cut, and immaculate, and some guardians, like Lumiale and Olivie, were thankful that they could not grow facial hair, and recently Randy had some trouble experiencing the plight of manhood and would appear at meetings with pieces of tissue bandaging the spots where he cut himself while shaving. Yet here was Clavis, who could be as clean-cut as the spotless Julious, looking rugged and weary.

"Clavis, I'm sorry for barging in like this. I just had to talk to you," Lumiale said softly.

Clavis' tired violet eyes turned to the blue-haired young man, but he didn't say anything. Lumiale had a mutual understanding with Clavis that his silence didn't necessarily mean a refusal.

"I think we should talk about what went on the last night I was here. I'm sorry if anything I said offended you-"

"Lumiale," Clavis' deep liquid voice interrupted him, "I am tired. Can't this wait?"

Normally, Lumiale would obey his older friend and sit silently in the corner and play a tune, but Lumiale felt hurt. Obviously what was said that night could not be ignored.

"No, I'm sorry this can't," this elicited a disapproving look from the tall dark haired man. Lumiale sucked in a deep breath, gathering up more courage to say what he had to say.

"To put it bluntly, Clavis, I think we are endangering our friendship. I feel that something is wrong and if it is because I have a friendship with one of my servants, then tell me and I'll…I'll figure something out. And if it's anything else that's bothering you please tell me. I only want to help."

Clavis was silent for a while, but it was apparent that he had heard everything that Lumiale said. With a gentle grunt, Clavis eased out of his chair, "Lumiale, you of all people know that I am a personal person. It is foolish of you to make my concerns your own. Why the sudden interest?"

"Because…well…it is a certain feeling I get. And your appearance. You look dog tired."

"Just had a few late nights. That's all," his long hand gestured towards the door. "Now if you please. I want to have a few moments to myself in the off chance the brown-haired boy wants to barge in for…conversation."

Lumiale couldn't help but smile, "He looks up to you."

"He does so in a noisy way. Please, leave."

"Shall I come over tonight?"

Clavis rested his head on his hand and sighed through his nose, "If you see it necessary."

For some reason, as Lumiale left to head back to his own mansion, he didn't feel any better about Clavis' situation.

Lumiale barely had time to lay his harp down once he returned home when there was a frantic knock at his door. Olivie was on the other side. Even though Olivie was hardly ever serious, the look on his face showed that something was wrong.

"Your manservant," he began, "Miguel collapsed."

A/N: Another chapter finally up. And the Hootie reference is the band Hootie and the Blowfish. Miguel is the type who would listen to them trust me. I always like feed back. Although I have an outline in mind, if there are any suggestions on where I should go with this please send them via review and maybe I can make a few alterations.


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